Archive for money problems

In My Dreams…

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on February 22, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

Spook and I both have very vivid imaginations and sometimes we play the ‘what if we had the money to do…” game. So far all we’ve agreed on is a house with an in ground pool and a moat filled with hungry gators to keep my family away.

But truth is, that is all frou frou thought. My true dreams are much simpler and more down to Earth. I have always been ‘low rent’ and I don’t have expensive tastes or unrealistic expectations. So this is my top ten dream list of what I wish I could have in life.

1.) Enough monthly income to pay all the bills, buy all supplies, and occasionally take my kid out for a meal or movie.

2.) Medication that actually works because my luck with them is zilch.

3.) A replacement laptop since my screen is failing on this one and my entire life is in my computer. (Used, preferably, I do not want Windows 8 or 10, that is nasty stuff.)

4.) A working clothes dryer.

5.) A small lottery win or donation that would give Spook and I a $1000 cushion or so just in case we do get hit by these monstrous power/heat bills and pricey auto registration renewal fees.

6.) A work from home job in which I could utilize my writing and bargain hunting skills without compromising my precarious mental health.

7.) Ability to buy my kid some clothes that actually fit since she’s grown 2 inches since her xmas clothes were bought and now she looks like she is wearing belly shirts and capri pants.

8.) Our living room TV repaired so the remote will work and we can actually use the smart app features.

9.) A different (but used and model prior to 2010) car with lower mileage and no wiring problem that causes my gas gauge and speedometer to only work sporadically.

10.) For Becca to come back and live with us again because we really did mesh and it was just nice living with my best friend. We complemented each other and had enough in common still to get along so well.

And that is it. Those are the dreams/hopes/wishes I have. No luxury cars or homes, no fancy jewelry, no pricey trips, no winning lottery tickets making us millionaires.

I just want to be able to support my kid and work through my mental health disability without constantly stressing over all the things I can’t afford. She lost a tooth last night and I only had 45 cents to put under her pillow. That was a shitty feeling, even if she doesn’t believe in the tooth fairy.

I just want to be able to improve our lives and the one recurring issues are my mental illnesses and lack of adequate income to pay for the monthly bills and necessities.

That’s all I dream about. Making a better life for my daughter and I.


Good News Better News, BAD News, and Oh, I Am So SCREWED News

Posted in depression, mental health, single parenting with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 14, 2020 by morgueticiaatoms

3 posts and it’s not even supper time, I am on a roll. Well, after 3 days of depressive deep freeze, my brain is firing on 6 out of 8 cylinders so I am taking advantage of it. No attempt to spam people but also not sorry. If you were a writer before you were a blogger then you know the creative urge has its own time table and if you don’t heed it at that moment, you can ‘lose it’ and get writer’s block. NOPE. And yeah, yeah, schedule posts, bloody hell, I have tried but wordpress has that idiotic military clock and no matter how many times or how many people explain it to me I STILL DON’T GET IT SO JUST LET IT GO.

Good news. I spent 20 minutes out in 12 degree cold removing 4 inches of snow and 2 inches of ice from my car. I had to take a break mid way because even in gloves I could not feel anything in my fingers except pain. My ice scraper broke halfway off the ice was so thick and I don’t have a spare so that’s awesome. The car started, the heater is still working and it is road ready.

Better news..I had like a dollar forty left on my card so I went to the gas station and got a 2 liter of soda for me and Spook. I couldn’t afford to get her a single thing for V-tine’s cos I had to get the stuff for her school party and it makes me feel bad so I figured I could at least ply her with soda and maybe do my homemade cocounut clusters later. Though that is gonna require Mt Dish Olympus be washed and I haven’t gotten there yet. But a cleared off car that starts, with soda-those are good things.

Bad news abounds. I am the bottom of the cat food bucket so I am either gonna have to ask dad if I can get some from them or hope they are all gone and I can just sneak over and swipe some. They keep it in the shed in a tall metal trash can, so they’d hardly miss a coffee can full til Monday, but sometimes, my dad just likes to be a dickbag and say no to simple requests.

I thought I had a cushion in my account so I could afford the copay for my refills on Xanax and Wellbutrin but that cushion was wiped out by my monthly ‘service fee’ so now I can’t get those and I didn’t learn of this til after I’d bought the soda.


A $317 power/heat bill due March 3rd.

I can’t pay it. I am out of arrangements and extensions. And the power company is talking about making me come up with a $200 deposit if I don’t pay it in full on time.

I dropped the ball. I got my low income assistance grant and didn’t realize the amount went towards any back bills I had with the power/heat people. I didn’t miss a payment, I didn’t make a partial, I had to go budget arrangement,which reults in…lump sum.I just can’t get caught up because we had to move in such a hurry in 2018 (we got the notice they sold to another company and were becoming ‘owner only’ instead of rental on V’tine’s that year and had two weeks to get out, happy eviction anniversary). But yeah, the whole $500 grant went toward one bill and paying the back amount so I am on the hook for that $317 and I can’t even buy cat food or my refills. I have no idea what I am gonna do, this area is just so small, we don’t have many assistance options.And March 10th my meter gets read again so I will likely have another $300 bill to pay April 3rd.

I feel trapped and hopeless.

This was why I started that Ko-fi thing. Not to beg for money but to write for my supper, so to speak. Someone told me they thought my writing was good enough for me to make money at it and I tried it and…without promotion on social media it is just getting cobwebs and it breaks my heart. I thought for sure by now I’d have found some sort of job to do but I can’t even get work from home or product tester because I have no recent references. Not that checking references would help, they’d all say the same thing: Great when manic, useless when depressed, and I am depressed 9 months of the year so fuck me.

I also need a $151 license renewal sticker on my car by midnight March 31 or I am not road ready.

My income is $848 for the month. Rent is $400. Even if I let the internet go, I still need water and I can’t pay that if I pay rent and heat. I can’t buy gas or food or pet supplies.

I am at a loss.

Meanwhile the donor galivants around town job to job, address to address, paying support for a week or two when he gets caught, then moving along before they can catch him again. (And the law doesn’t even require we be notified he’s not working so our support isn’t coming, we just wait every period hoping it deposits and yet again…it did not.) Maybe I need to work even with my disability, but I get damned sick of people letting that 57 year old man child off the hook. Spook is his daughter,too, but as long as he doesn’t work or goes off book, well, he has no responsibility. He doesn’t see her, doesn’t do a damn thing in any way to help out. But people are harder on me than him and I don’t get it. I’ve been with her since she was in my belly, I’ve put every cent into keeping her sheltered and fed and stuff. I don’t go out. I don’t party. I don’t have fancy things. Hell, my winter coat is so ripped, I can barely wear it anymore but she had to have the new coat this year…I gave her every blanket in the house, I only have 2 on my bed.

My fault, I tried to get ahead by paying car insurance in full for six months because I honestly thought I’d at least have a break rom the heat bill somewhat for March. At the most, I thought a hundred bucks. $317????? Holy fuck.

I don’t even qualify for one of those 100% legal loan sharky places.

The pawn king (literally the store’s name) says my stuff is too old, he could maybe give me fifty bucks for a tablet, a laptop, and three flat screen TVs. Fifty bucks barely puts the gas back in my tank hauling it all to town.

A normal family, if I had one, I could reach out to in a dire time like this, since they’ve been bragging about their tax refund windfalls and say, can I pay you back monthly… Not this family.

So I thought, well,worse comes to worse, we could move in with my mom. NOPE. Because my mom doesn’t own the house. It is owned by her roommate, who has willed it to her son (my brother in law) and he says even if we paid, we can’t stay there. Dad has no room. We literally have nowhere to go.

And I am venting here, guys, so don’t think it’s a pity party and don’t apologize for not being able to help. I know most people are in a similar shit situation and the comfortable people are not keen to risk being ‘scammed’ by some internet stranger, so I am not trying to manipulate anyone or anything. I am just telling it like it is.

So while people wonder why my posts never seem to be positive…This is my reality,guys. Sometimes, there’s just not much to be positive about. Yes, you thank your lucky stars for what you do have but to keep it requires a solution and I don’t have one at this moment. I am scared shitless. I’ll lose custody of my kid if I can’t provide her with a home. Her dad may not want her, but one of my ass trash family members would probably take her in and I’d never see her again or I’d see her at their discretion and they’d totally ruin her and turn her into…them. Ewww.

I gotta remember to breathe.

When we were forced to move, the donor was not paying, I had no savings, and we had 2 weeks to find a place and get out. I will figure out a way, even if we end up at the only ‘homeless’ shelter in town. If it’s still open, I haven’t seen much traffic there in 4 or so years. Like I said, even with a kid, if you have any income, there’s just not much by way of assistance here.

And maybe I don’t deserve it, I fucked this up royally, but it was an honest mistake. I never intended it to work out this way.

For now, I am just gonna let it stew and simmer and see what I can come up with in a few days.

At least today I got up, I bathed, I took out trash, I cleared off the car, I went out in public (if the minimart in Armpit counts as public) and I even took a third phone call from my dad without screaming GO AWAY YOU IDGET!

Life is a tossed salad of good and bad and for tonight…I am gonna focus on the good. The bad will still be there tomorrow.

I am definitely gonna need to find the money for the Xanax refill, though, geesh, the panic attacks are coming back with a vengeance and that I am NOT grateful for.

I Wish I Could Impeach My Misfiring Brain

Posted in anxiety, depression with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 20, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Oh, what’s in a title…Apparently, a lot. Buzz words, tag words, trending topics. It all gets more views, more likes. And what is the country talking about this week? Oh, yes, the impeachment farce. Sorry, demoncrats, think you overplayed your hand on this one. The Cheeto Hued Dumpster Fire has too many republiskanks who would let him shoot someone on the street and say nothing. He’s boasted about that, too. If that is your leader, I am glad I am not a follower. Not that our other options are little more than gun, knife, noose, death all around…So, I am off to a rousing start,daring to bring up politics.

Let’s face it, though. Going into the weekend before the Christmas holiday even my two die hard readers will be too busy to read let alone be made uncomfortable by mention of politics or get offended.

So my title. call into question the integrity or validity of (a practice.

I question my brain all the bloody time. The very definition of bipolar and depression and anxiety amounts to the brain sending the wrong messages and distorting your perception and thoughts. So, I’d like to impeach it as its validity and integrity are borderline treasonous to me. When disorders can alter the entire landscape of your long etched personality and beliefs and make you filled with self doubt…IMPEACH SCUMBAG BRAIN. Not that it’d do a damn bit of good cos faulty firing syapses are majority rule. Can’t Z Whack and mercy it. Can’t spray it with machine gun fire. Can’t stab it, set it on fire, remove it from office…But sometimes I sure want to do all of the above because I MISS ME. Who I am when not in a depression or under the seasonal depression or riddled with the bouncy ball attention deficit incoherent thoughts. I don’t like the constant, often untriggered, fight or flight responses of panic attacks. feeling like a cornered animal with little or no reason.

But I guess it’s a good with the bad situation. Part of what makes me, well me, is my brain, no matter how screwed up it may be. To be rid of the bad, I’d also have to part with the good stuff about myself I actually like.

So big shocker…I did not get to sleep easily last night and I woke very two hours or so. It was flustering. When I wake then can nod back off real easily, I don’t get so bent. But when I wake and scumbag brain decides it isn’t sleepy anymore..And time is ticking til you have to get up with the alarm so you get more stressed out and it becomes harder to sleep. Night after night. It wears you down. Hell, I’m a fucking miracle considering how vicious some people get when they don’t get 8 or 9 hours of sleep every night. By all accounts of sleep deprivation, I reckon I should be out at Walmart, gone berzerk and Z Whacking anyone who is wearing their pajamas in public. Or just out in public.

Waking was a bitch, too. I was gonna go for a 4th snooze button but my kid was up and I just had to power through. She gets out early today and then it is 16 days straight of me and her together, each of us giving the other whiplash with our mood swings. Happy fucking holidays. I can already hear the hours of chanting MOm, I’m bored…

As lazy and ungrateful as she is, I should make her do some chores but that just starts a fight. And last time I let her do dishes, she broke the faucet so…

The dishes remain unwashed. Laundry remains wet, waiting for me to hang dry it. The carpet has more fur than the cats do. And still…no motivation, no energy, no give a damn. I mention it because I am SUPPOSED to give a damn, like normal people. I mean, I will never be an OCD clean freak like my sister, but I could ‘take some pride’ in how our home looks. Then again, after it got so bad over my six month summer depression, it is downright sparkly now.

Therapists say PUSH yourself past all the negative feelings and inertia and once you start ‘doing something’, you will feel better. That works maybe 25% of the time. Right now I am forcing myself to keep watching he Walking Dead. Just days ago, I was all in. Now I am like, ugh, this has gotten redundant and boring. But has it? Or has my attention span just wandered so drastically and my mental state so altered that it’s not allowing me to enjoy it?

There is one thing that not even depression has robbed me of. The ability to briefly feel the warm fuzzies.

I saw a Baby Yoda doll on line yesterday and just went to moosh. My kid thinks it’s ugly. I am more a Trekkie person than Star Wars but man…BABY FREAKING YODA!!! Awwww.

And I guess my attention has wandered elsewhere yet again because I was all fired up to rant even longer but now I forgot what it was I wanted to say. Sometimes it amazes me that I’ve kept a kid alive for ten years, considering how non functional I get and how my focus is all over the map.

Yet she’s never had a single stitch or overnight hospital stay so I must be doing something right. Unless she grows up to be Jeffrina Dahmer in which case I either bore a psychopath or created one.

There I go spewing maternal sunshine again. I rock that way.

Yep, still..fundraising…latest update

Posted in depression, fundraiser with tags , , , , , , , on April 24, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I updated today.

The update explains why we are still seeking donations. Legal fees, school fees, pet flea treatment, and yes, my 9 and a half year old daughter has never once been on a vacation even 2 hours away to Six Flags when she reads to earn her own admission ticket. It is awful when I say no we can’t go, because I can’t buy my own ticket, put gas in the car, then have enough to sleep in a motel overnight due to my poor night vision.

So please go check it out

She saw a vid of St Louis’s Six Flags Screamin’ Eagle and now she just reallt wants to go. Please help me make her dream come true and help prevent flea bite hell for the cats and their allegy laden human. (me)

Thanks. Happy Tuesday.

The flea stuff we need  for the cats


Me and Spook’s paypal direct account


Trust me, with my daughter, everything is ‘ours;. Except for the bills, those are all mine, but we get ‘our paycheck’, we get ‘our child support’ (I wish!). This is totally team mom and daughter.

Depression, Anxiety, And Poverty Should Be Considered A Viral Epidemic

Posted in employment with tags , , , , , , , , on April 14, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Happy Sunday.

We woke to blowing snow and 32 degrees on April 14th. I shut the heat off as it was in the 60’s yesterday. My kid was unamused to wake up with icicles on her toes.

Today is Doomsday. Not looking forward to a 20 mile drive into town and if the donor is a now show, then I’ve wasted what little gas money I have and will have a despondent child on my hands. If he does show up, it will take every bit of me fighting my own nature to call people for being blatant phonies and liars.

I’d like to say thanks to the people who have helped us a little toward our fundraising goal to keep our power/heat turned on. You guys know who you are and how much it means to me and Spook.

Direct donation or gift through paypal here.

If you want the sordid story and a heartfelt video, that is here on gofundme.

I bathed this morning for the first time in 9 days. I may be a worn down depressive busk and basketcase but I’m not giving the donor the satisfaction of seeing me that way. He’d take credit for ‘destroying’ me when fact is, the depression and anxiety have been plundering me for so long, and with the money problems of him not paying support, and Spook being such a volatile kid…That is what has worn me down this far. Not him. My psyche isn’t so weak as to be deterred by romantic rejection. Been there, done that, keep buying the t-shirt every few years then burning it.

I need to jet by mom’s before our meeting today, she has some black dress flat shoes I can use for my job interview tomorrow. I only own tennis shoes and combat style heavy metal rocker chick boots, so…thank god me, mom, and my sister all have the exact same large ass foot size.

Pretty nervous about the interview tomorrow but the lady told me there could be an issue with my past even if it was over 15 years ago but she’d like to talk to me anyway. If I go in expecting little, I won’t be disappointed to be told ‘thanks but no thanks.’

I’m getting pretty disgusted with the flaming hoops involved in just applying to flip burgers or serve subs. Personality tests, audio clips to grade the customer/employer interaction, video clips in which you get 5 seconds to reply to a hypothetical situation coherently…Starting to feel like you gotta be a brain surgeon to be ‘sandwich artist’ material.

Fonal thoughts…

Yesterday there was a brief moment in which I felt sort of happy with our lives. I get left to my own devices, she has some friends, I get along with parents in a civilized way, we have a home, a car, she has a swingset and a bike and scooter and we have our cats…It’s not always bad. It’s just scary when you think how close you are to losing it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. If I could make my gratitude go viral and infectious, I would.

I have met some amazing kind and generous friends through wordpress and I love you all for being my support system, my friends, and sometimes, even my ‘panic button’ to text when I start crumbling. You guys are pretty amazing and I may not always feel I deserve it, but I sure as hell appreciate it.

There’s the family you’re born with and anyone who reads my blog knows mine is not supportive or very helpful.

You guys here on wordpress are the family I have chosen because you are supportive and helpful and you seem able to cut through the layers of gruff self protection I’ve encased myself in…and you see the troubled but basically decent person inside and you accept and appreciate me for it.

You will never in a million years know how much this means to me and I thank you and send you all the love in the world.


Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on March 13, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

That title is by no means self pity. It is simply an honest expression of how I am feeling today after being dealt a series of nerve racking mishaps. I am trying so very hard and getting nowhere. I need money to keep the rent and power paid, but I can’t get employment. If you’re tired of hearing about it, imagine how tired I am of living it. Trying your hardest and getting nowhere is one of the most daunting things life can throw you at you. Especially after a lifetime of ‘work hard and you can accomplish anything you want’ being forcefed down my throat and into my brain. That, well meaning but ignorant people, is a phallacy.

The cats have been physically attacking each other today, tearing the house apart, knocking stuff down. I have yet to hear back from that clinic director. I got my monthly curse and am in physical pain as well as operating from a dark mental space (dysphoria.) I kept hearing water running in the basement and I forced myself down into the hell pit and found water was just gushing from a black plastic hose. I’ll be damned if I know what it goes to, my washer has a separate drain hose. I got soaked in my sock feet battling this cracked hose, in full panic mode cos if it kept up it could easily get to the furnace not to mention damage to the house foundation itself. By the time the landlord remembered to get her from in town, the place could have flooded already. So I just messed about with it and crammed the two pieces back together and into the drain pipe in the wall. Right or wrong, the water isn’t gushing out anymore. I know it needs fixed properly but that is a future me problem. Today survival is the name of the game.

I let Spook’s little friend to come over and play. I was starting to feel pretty lousy about never feeling up to it because of my anxiety and lowered Xanax dose. As long as they play nice and don’t stress me further, I can take one for the team so my kid gets some happiness.

I still did not make it to town for groceries. We aren’t starving but we could use fresh fruit to avoid the spawn getting scurvy. (J/k) I just can’t seem to force myself to do it, and I think this, too, is tied into my lowered Xanax dose. Last time some well meaning idget did that, I became agoraphobic for the better part of a year. I fear it is happening again as driving on the interstate with tires showing belt and the cost of’s just terrifying to me. Then I hit the traffic in town and come unglued. If this agoraphobic leaning doesn’t improve with better weather conditions, I am really going to be scared.The fact I’ve heard nothing back either from the director or even a receptionist to say, we’re referring you out, or we found you another doctor…I think I burned that bridge. Which is crap as I’ve been going there over 15 years and only ever had two complaints about their revolving door of docs. This NP has been there 6 months. Somehow I don’t think the mental patient will be given the benefit of the doubt. Not self pity, no pessimism, just fact based on experience. That there has been zero effort to contact me on their part in days after I returned the call and left two messages…it’s kind of the writing on the wall.

I just feel so beaten down, so defeated. It’s like if I can’t even find a job to keep my kid housed and with electric and heat, well, what good am I to her? Some of this is hormonal distortion, some is anxiety, some is depression, but what it all amounts to is…I am exhausted. I fight and I fight and I fight. This may make me a warrior by some standards but I am tired of warrioring, tired of adulting, tired of constantly complaining. I am ashamed to keep reaching out to people for help, I am a grown woman, I should have the strength to pull myself out of this financial depressive hole.

I just don’t, some days. Today is one of those days. I feel weak as a newborn kitten in every way. And what has being strong gotten me anyway? Some deadbeat owes me $4000 in support, my state is useless at hunting him down, and we are going to lose everything because I was such a screw up with past employments when I am fighting for my daughter’s well being…I am frustrated. I am angry. I am filled with self loathing. I applied for something called Task Rabbit today but the nearest jobs they have are near the state capitol-a hundred mile drive for me on bare tires if I were to even have someone interested in my services. I don’t come with stellar references. R was my most recent one and he has painted the entire thing as me hating his politics and simply being spoiled, lazy, inept, and volatile. (So am I told, but if I don’t include my time there, I’ve got no reference since 2002.) Round and round it goes. I am about to break.

I even entered PCH sweepstakes. I am desperately trying to fight for us.

Just not sure how much strength I have left. Everyone has their breaking point. Failing my kid would most certainly be mine.

Oh and I found out there’s not even room at my mom’s ‘commune’ as they are already house two former methheads and my nephew’s friend who just got fired from his job…Dad doesn’t have room for us. I have shuffled, robbed Peter to pay Paul, sacrificed. I don’t know what else to do. And if I could just get this damn heat bill paid off (only $78 of the monthly $360 bill is electricity, it’s all the gas for heat that is killing me.) I think maybe we could see a bit of daylight and if I keep trying to find work, even applying for stuff I cannot do ( you don’t want me assembling furniture, trust me, I am not good at it)…Maybe if I just keep trying…

But we are running out of time and I think that has my gut twisted into knots and I am terrified but putting on a brave face for Spook, and just…feeling like someone’s punching bag. No sooner than I get up, they knock me down again. We all have a breaking point. I thought last year’s move was going to be mine. Now…I think my inability to support my child is going to be what sends me over the edge.

I’ll think positively on a day I am feeling less bruised and beaten down. Today I own my feelings, I accept them, and just pray to the sacred pegacorn that the money comes through, that I find a good doctor, that I can get work, that I have more strength left in me. It’s easy to bolster someone’s spirits and assure them they are strong.

Less easy is being in our shoes and feeling this weak and tired and hopeless. It does not breed self confidence or optimism. Not that I have the energy for either.

Problem for ‘future Morgue.”

Even The Wicked Occasionally Deserve Some Rest

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , on January 10, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I thought it was bad enough when the earpiece broke off my glasses last week.

Today I found the rest of them…but not til after they’d been stepped on outside. Knew I lost them somewhere. No fixing them now. Even if I got an appointment at the eye doc tomorrow, it’d still take 3 months for my insurance to process it, and another month before I got them. Frick.

Really glad I have that hoarder instinct and kept my old glasses from 4 years ago. They’re bifocal and not as strong as I need now days and they give me massive headaches but…better than nothing.

Could Spook and I just catch a break at some point?