That’s what I tell myself.
I was censored – again.
Recent coffee piece.
My short story.
Flagged.
Deleted.
The only thing I can think of? Some still think I am fundraising. And that is not allowed on the platform – however there are locals who come on there every damn week and ask for financial help due to this or that crisis. Those posts never get flagged or deleted.
But mine?
Personal attack? Someone not wanting me on that platform getting support?
I mean WHERE THE FUCK AM I?? WHY does this keep happening to me?
Why is it when I am at my most desperate, I keep coming TO that place more and more – I feel this horrid sense of being alone in a void?
I keep saying this because it is becoming my experience. More and more each day. I see it happening to my child too and THAT is what is making me lose my mind the quickest. My daughter – who doesn’t think anything is going to get better – that she doesn’t have a future – so why bother to plan for one? Even though she is – but I see that other part of her that wants to just give up come in more and more lately.
THIS SHIT is real, and it’s happening to the younger generations. They feel they have no future. Can’t afford to support themselves so why the fuck work? I see parents talk about their 20 something’s, even 30 something’s, living at home, refusing to work, depressed, living in the basement. Zoned out on social media. Up all night. Sleeping during the day. Can we blame them?
Comfy as fuch. Trust the plan.
O M G where is the god damn compassion??!!! Where is this alleged concern for the children???!!!
I need income to support a fucking $2,000 month cost of housing.
Jesus……….!!
Which is why I SCREAM OVER AND OVER for fucking help! Just promote my work, someone. Pay me for what I fucking do. I AM DESPERATE. Help me find a home! Pray for my daughter! HELP. US. SOMEONE SEE ME AND HELP. US.
Write it and they will come.
That is what I build. Try to do. DO do.
Who is “they”?
What is it exactly I am doing now other than losing my mind?
Not sleeping?
Being crushed financially more as time passes.
Seeing my capacity to support myself for the long term slip away.
Carrying around this ungodly pain in my heart and this horrid just GOD AWFUL pain and heaviness of not being able to make things well and right for my own child. Having to tell her “I cannot afford that” far too fucking often.
GOING IT too much alone in isolation because who the hell wants to be friends with me? Who wants to associate with the freak who refused to get the jab and wear the mask? The one who once upon a time voted for Trump?
Inclusive, they chant.
Inclusive, my ass.
Seeing members of my own family doing just fine while I struggle not to drown.
Waking up scratching and itching myself all over – at times I don’t even know I’m doing it, as it must begin in my sleep – and I wake up with rashes and scabs where I am itching myself.
We drown when we’re left to our own pools of unwanted pain.
Drown in the emotions. Emotions that have simply become too heavy to carry.
And the scariest of all?
Losing hope.
Fighting to stay afloat.
The deafening silence of being a mom in this horrid reality, trying to stay positive, telling your child everything is ok. Everything will be ok.
When she can see the fatigue in your eyes.
When looking at your own child in the eyes, you see her fatigue.
From tears.
To numbness.
To teenage angst. “Mom, just stop trying! People don’t care! Don’t you get that?!”
I hear those words often these days.
It’s all – crushing.
This current whatever it is we are in is just as much of an awful hell as this one others say we escaped – the HRC version of all of us being in quarantine camps. Or nuclear war.
Some days, some moments, that sounds better. At least it’s a change. MOVEMENT. SOMETHING different on the world stage. With an end in sight. This slow peeling of the bandage is destroying far too many of us mentally now.
So for now, I write it in hopes they will come.
And rescue all of us who want out of this hellhole. To bring in this god damn shift already. N O W.
💖
V.
