Pinching Pennies

I really feel like I should be using this site more. I’m letting go of the premium version of this because I can’t afford it this year, so I’m not sure what my blog will look like after that. Oh well. Honestly with this site I had intended it to be a mental health haven where I would share quotes, funny stories, helpful resources, and of course for it to be kind of a live journal. I think for me to keep using this it will just have to be a journal/confessional. Things are going to get ugly on this blog.

Anyways, on with the word vomit. Pinching pennies. Something I’ve had to do my entire life. Right now it’s still at a very intense degree. This summer we moved 8 hours away back to the city where R and I met. My aunt was gracious and gave us the money to do so.

I love being back in the city but things haven’t really been that great. The stress and triggers of being in my hometown has been removed, but of course the other issues have not. Issues including borderline poverty, my inability to work full time, the debts that I owe from my breakdown, not having health insurance for months, and the guilt about the mistakes and relationships I ruined from my breakdown.

R just started working again, so we won’t see money to really catch up on things until the end of the month. R thinks he might get paid next Friday but isn’t completely sure. That gives me a lot of anxiety because I only get paid 200-230 per week, sometimes even less than that. We have rent coming due next week, some utilities we have left to pay, gas for the car, and somehow in there we need to eat.


I am hoping to whatever deity exists that he will get that first check next week. If not, we’re probably going to need to go to a food pantry, use the $86 left on my credit card, and I’ll have to borrow gas money from work because we have to drive to each house to clean with our own cars. That’ll take whatever amount I borrow off my paycheck next week. I fucking hate doing these things. I feel guilty about doing it.

I wish I could work full time. I sincerely do, but it puts me into episodes. I still tried when we moved here and I relearned that lesson the hard way. It sucks having to choose between mental health and a hope for a goddamn grain of stability. But I know if I try to do more than I can handle, I won’t be able to keep my job at all.

My brain keeps saying it’s karma and I honestly believe it. I’ve done so much wrong over the years that I can’t help but think that I deserve to be crushed by debt/bills, struggle for health insurance for months, not have food, and not have a rest from guilt and panic. I’ve upset the balance of the universe and it must be fixed. I don’t know if it’s more comforting thinking it’s the universe punishing me or that this is all random and there is no reason behind it.

Anyways, chug along and hope for the best I guess.

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