Mental health office called again. Pushing me to find another doctor. It just reassures how I feel unwanted and too much of a “hassle” to deal with.
Yesterday was his court date, I haven’t heard back from the DA office on what happened. I can sit here and say I don’t care but I do. The anxiety of not knowing if myself and this baby will be safe is debilitating.
The counselor that called told me to keep my mind busy. Oh lady! If only you knew how busy my mind was; however, I was already two steps ahead of her.
I woke up knowing I did not want to stay in the routine I have created. I woke up willing, able, and ready to fight through the day. I worked from 8am to 1pm and made $75. Seventy Five measles dollars. To many that is nothing. To me, it’s the money to pay back my mother. It’s the money to help care for my son. It’s the money to help around the house with bills so I don’t feel like a burden anymore to anyone. It’s also the money that kept me driven for a consistent 5 hours and not ONE breakdown.
$75… I remember when that was nothing to me even. Back when I could adult and put on a shell to power through the countless days. Do I miss it? Sometimes. I miss being good at something and respected for it. I don’t miss the stress, responsibility, mental abuse from NYS, and long underpaid hours taking time away from my family.
Now, I’m proud to have made $75 for 5 hours of work that I enjoyed.