It looks different from the outside.
Note from author: Boy, posting this up for the whole world to see is feeling naked, here. It’s a struggle reading this after writing it. My ego would like you to know that it took every thing in me (sans ego) to hit Publish. It’s my hope that by exposing my own signs of mental illnesses, I’ll help others start to see their own symptoms and waken, like I did. By waking, we won’t pass it to our children, thus thwarting the evolution of humanity. As long as we keep accepting them as mere illnesses, we’re just covering them up with tarps. Breaking through our denial will open the pathways to evolution. I hope you enjoy.
Alexis Scarbrough, Dalai Momma
To me, the word poverty has a gungy way of sounding. Observers often react with either pity or disgust, rather than actual compassion. Signs of poverty of course include, old, torn and stained clothing, unkempt hair, littered, sparse lawn, missing screens/windows, cardboard curtains, “beater” cars, dogs on chains, piles of junk in the yard, you get the drift. But others are in the “nice” homes; people who feel shame for their situation, believe themselves to be burdens, too ashamed to ask for help, and believing they are not important enough or won’t qualify. Coincidentally, all are the effects and signs of mental illnesses. One such illness is Major Depression; something all of us can succumb but not all can afford to…
I encourage you to take a walk through a lower income neighborhood. Actually look to see signs. See if you can look at it without any objections or judgement. See who’s been struck, you may be surprised –and if your neighborhood is free of it, walk until you reach one.
If you think you know someone who you know is going through a trial, don’t wait for them to ask; be a caring friend and ask if you can help them in some way. You may be surprised and, quite wonderfully, given the opportunity to give hope to someone, through your generosity. America needs people like this; our country is suffering, greatly and our children will have to hold these problems themselves, someday. I fear they won’t be strong enough if we don’t step in and adjust accordingly.
This is Part 1 of my experience with poverty, more will follow, beginning with the easiest of perimeters.
Oh hell, the yard.
Where do I put all of this crap? I’m so glad to have a fence… even though it’s leaning precariously now…
I’ve had to pile up the overage of garbage, over five, long years, so there’s quite a pile in the back corner… brace yourself, photos are coming…
Garbage removal is expensive. I can’t afford to rid us of it all. I’m given a receptacle that has an insert in it so it’s actually smaller on the inside! Believe me, I took the thing out and you can bet, the bill was jacked within the week and I got a call that I was now on the $40 plan. I couldn’t afford it so I had to reinsert the insert. And each week the trash bin doesn’t fit (and we recycle like fiends), the bag(s) go into the yard pile. In my sad mind, this pile also represents my mental illnesses. It’s huge. Beneath it all is the beginning.
When my marriage first split, I was relieved and joyful. I was working good hours, making great tips in a fun restaurant and my now ex was giving the kids enough money to get us by, with no worries. Then, he hit rock bottom and hell began puking upon us. He lost his job and got my 13 passenger van impounded while drunk driving …and slowly the restaurant I served tables at began its decline due to the owner’s scandals. Within one year I was lost beneath it all. What’s worse is the clothes; I would buy clothes at Goodwill, TJMaxx, Target, and Saver’s because I wanted my children to look good. I bought them beautiful clothes because that always seemed to make me feel better (red flag). [Now I can see that I was projecting; as a kid I was tormented over my hand-me-downs at school and of course, wanted to stave that off for my own children.]
Our basement flooded that spring and nearly all of the clothes that were in the laundry room were flooded out; and I lacked the strength, time, and speed it needed to get all those clothes out and washed/dried; and then the washing machine bit the dust. We ended up having to bag up so many beautiful things! I wept and wept, bitter and angry with myself for letting such things be lost to all. The Recycler in me was and still is beyond disgusted. And the mess in the basement has been unbearable, I’m still pulling shit up out of there. I believe I may be a hoarder, or my marriage jump-started a hoarder mentality in an already hoarder’s house (my ex pack-ratted tons of needless shit all over the house and garage). What’s worse, there’s been no let up in the trash we create. During my depression years (4 straight!) I became a full-on consumer, like the rest of the world. I could turn on the Denial and just throw away a recyclable item! Heart breaking. Can you feel the photos coming closer? I tell you, please brace yourself.
So, it’s gotten rather large and I’m humiliated by it. I fear it and loathe it. Twice I reserved an appointment with the Trailer Trash guys in town but had to back out, due to lack of funds. There are other things to spend my small dibs on than trash. Besides, I already paid for the shit. I guess I could keep holding on to it. It’s a good reminder to buy only what we need.
Ok, here goes. This is my view from the kitchen.
Our couches, supposedly leather, from HOM Furniture grew bare of their actual pleather, the ex live-in’s trash, flooded basement garbage, cheap toys Wal-Mart, a broken swimming pool, ladders, lawn toys, a trampoline, fans, microwaves less than 2 years old, decrepit furniture, an oven Samsung quit making parts for… this is gross, bags and bags of trash, litter, and accumulated filth, all piling up.
I’m not ashamed any more though. This is me; divorced and trying to parent to keep my kids out of jail, and in poverty living in America.
This is how most of the “Home of the free” actually live.
Just by residing in a home in America you’re forced to pay your city monthly bills for electricity, gas, water (wait, aren’t those necessities? Water shut off with children in the home actually does happen –we know from experience). Plus, we pay for sewer (thank god, but wait, isn’t that in my taxes?), road maintenance (taxes, right? I don’t think so) and taxes (finally). And then, there’s the mortgage or rent, never mind how you’ll get yourself to a store, and afford fresh food to feed for your family (that must be difficult on one income…).
America; where we work to live (wait, is that really freedom?)!
Where we put our kids in other people’s care, so we can work jobs we hate, drive cars we wish were better, only to come home to kids we don’t really know or, maybe even like –because we’re not raising them (why do we keep doing this?)!
To the idiot who keeps repeating “Nothing in life comes for free,” hold still, someone is trying to get a bead on you. Why are you creating red tape and drama? This planet comes to us for free, who do you think you are, making guidelines, a king? Just because your ancestors worked their tails off so you could get your vacation campsite doesn’t mean other people who weren’t born into it or aren’t able to keep up your work ethics due to other factors (meaning, they’re not you) doesn’t mean they deserve to suffer
–it means you’re in denial of their suffering!
This is the face of America. Work hard so you don’t have any energy left to enjoy life –keep working so you don’t get pulled under!
Keep purchasing those products that have fuses hidden that nuke the unit after a certain time.
Keep buying dollar store items because you can’t afford the ones that actually work, and keep adding them to your personal pile of shit. Perpetuating poor labor conditions in another country, building said lower-grade products, perpetuating poor living qualities, creating more garbage piling up, and so much suffering.
America, where we go out of our way to get the newest gadgets for thousands of dollars while our coworker wonders where they’ll sleep that night…
No one is caring any more! No one is aware of the sickness surrounding them.
Blinders DISENGAGE!
For me, it may be different. The fence hides our shame. But we know it’s here. It blasts the ghetto tunes every time we walk outside to add to it with a new bin of something. It shrieks it’s high pitched wails of woe each time we try to go out there an have a family bonfire, or play a game of Capture the Flag (which is silly because who’s going to know where to look for a flag among all this?).
It’s impossible to ignore as a parent and home owner. It’s painful, ugly and humiliating. Yes, I could put a tarp over it. Yes, it could be taken care of –if I had an income that supported it. But truth is, I don’t, and another truth is, Corporations are creating appliances to fail after the warranty ends, leaving folks to buy more and trash more… Furniture companies make low-quality bullshit that never lives up to it’s claims. The fact alone that there are even any “single use plastics” allowed is a mystery of itself!
We’re being snared, folks. We’ve been had by the biggest con-men: Corporations and Government.
Have we not learned anything from Flick in Bug’s Life??? So many of us being ruled by so few…
Know this: my personal trash heap gives me anxiety and grief. I’m burdened by it, daily, so don’t throw further dung on my already shitty situation, I beg of you. If you’re like that, you are a part of the problem. Go put your efforts into a solution. This is reality, and it’s happening in the lives of the people surrounding you. Wake up! Put some care back in your life.
And know this: I too am just like you, but like a person imprisoned, I got caught. I’m looking for a way out.
This is how fun it gets. Don’t play on that, kids! Mom needs to find time to tear this down, too.