It's 2007. I'm preggos and unemployed...perfect because really when you are pregnant you don't feel like doing ish and I did not have to. Life was good. Best part is my older boys had mentoring on Wednesdays after school so Mason and I had to kill 90 minutes each week and we killed it by eating at Red Lobster. Fun Times!!
David, being the only one working, took over all the major bills and my funds went to preparing for the new baby, well that and Red Lobster. For the first and last time in my life I let go of all my responsibilities and handed it all over to David to handle. Big Mistake! I noticed slowly but surely things were getting further and further behind. By the time I figured it all out we were months behind in rent and other bills. This became a source of hostility at home. David had the approach that "everything will work out" my approach was quite different. My unemployment ended and things went from bad to worse. Lucky for me I had an awesome paying record for 7 years with my property owners so they allowed me to pay what I could when I could. But the stress of the mounting debt was horrible. That and the fact that if they should so choose at any minute we could get evicted. I have never been in that situation ever! Every time I would see them I would think "oh no, they are coming to evict me." The part that I think drove me the most insane was I would lie awake at night stressing, but David really did not seem all that concerned. When we would discuss it he would say crap like "you are a worrier, No need to stress about it, that won't help." I became bitter and vengeful. I was having a baby any minute and there was not a whole lot I could do to rectify things. In June 2007 I had my princess. The little girl I had always wanted.
She had some colicky issues in the early months so combine that with the money issues we were having and the turmoil between David and I and it was a bad time. I would sit on the porch at night and stare out into the rain and dream of just running away. I wanted to give up, start over, anything but be here now. I could feel postpartum depression chasing me down. I had had some difficult times before but I knew this time I felt different, this time I wasn't sure I could rise above this and turn it all around. I was regretful for having another kid when times were so bad. I felt bad for my other kids because although I was there meeting all their psychical needs; between the colicky newborn and the financial woes, I was emotionally unavailable. I was like a robot going through all the motions but never feeling much. I am not close to my family so I could not turn there for help and I had long since alienated myself from my friends so I could not go there for support. I had nowhere to turn. Our quality of life had went from sugar to shit right before my eyes. The change was so drastic that I thought I was imagining it all. When it got really bad I headed down to our county welfare office.
I lined up with the rest of society's rejects at 630am with a month old baby in tow. The office only helped 10 people per day. I waited all day from 630a to 6pm. I met with daycare people, food stamp workers, Medicaid, anyone and everyone I could. It was humiliating and degrading. I was shameful. I had taken care of myself since I was thirteen only to turn 30 and be begging for hand outs. I saw person after person go in the back and come out happy and relaxed for they would be getting the help they needed. That held me all those hours while I waited with a fussy baby in the busy waiting area. When my turn came they assessed my situation and said to me "you are too far behind for us to help, you should have come for help months ago" the intake worker told me. I explained that I thought I could turn things around on my own but now realized I could not and I need some temporary help. They referred me to our local food bank and put me on an emergency list for daycare. I busted into tears in the middle of the lobby and made a spectacle of myself. I wanted to lie down on the dirty floor and act a fool in the hope that someone would come take me away. Even a mental institution would have been a welcome change in that moment.
As I cried in the lobby a lady came out to talk to me. She gave me some forms to fill out asap apparently there was some secret program and I had to have all the paperwork turned in now. So I went to the front desk to ask for a pencil the lady there said "we are closed". And I lost it again. At that point security came and asked me to leave. Which I did. I drove home got into my bed and slept and cried. How the hell was I supposed to take care of all these kids? I cursed myself for having 4 kids. I felt like a real loser for the first time in my life. I stayed in that mode for two days. On the third day I awoke all cried out. As I looked at the little girl I had always wanted lying beside me something in me snapped. I loaded her into her carrier and headed down to our local food bank. That day was the second most humiliating day of my life. Each step I took that day and every day after my hate for David grew and grew. He was a man dammit! Why didn't he fix this! When I tried to speak to him about things he would say that I was overreacting and everyone had hard times I just needed to take one day at a time. I hate sayings like that! I realized at that time that although I had a man in my life I was alone.