discomfort

My daughter called last night because they found my blog online and it upset them. They didn’t like reading about the grocery situation. they don’t want me to cry. They want everything to get better. I understand.

But telling a parent you can’t help, is telling a parent you can’t help. They stop asking for it. I tried to be as gentle as I could be when I was explaining that when you miss the deadline for someone’s expenses, the partial money is nice, still appreciated, still needed – but the deadline passed and things are screwed. At that point, it’s not the same as if it came before the deadline . . . even though you mean it to be.

My daughter wanted to make up a grocery care package and I told her no. she is barely feeding her own and making her payments and they have a baby. I told her we have a cleaning job today and will spend what we make on food. The EBT card refills on Sunday. It will be hard to make it to Sunday but we’ll figure it out. We raised the house payment for August, but now it’s September and the bank wants two or none – the forclosure dance looms again.

I understand they think we should move because there is no work around Atlanta for us, but I still hold loosing this house is gonna move us into crisis mode like they never realized was possible. No money is no money. If we can’t pay the payment here, we can’t pay rent someplace else. At least here, we are safe and not in immediate danger of the most poverty striken areas. No drive by shootings, no drug dangers at the street corners, no rapes or muggings. I have a son I need to protect. He has a school that knows him and understands his differences. Putting him out of the only home he knows is not good. I left my older kids with their father yrs ago to keep them from facing the same upheaval. I couldn’t support myself and them, then, either. It broke my heart. Still they don’t understand. It took so long to find our way back to each other from that time. I can’t let Geoffrey go. Choosing not to help to make us change plans knots my chest to think of. It feels unkind. I wish I could see it differently. Not helping because you can’t – that’s different. It doesn’t manipulate what we will experience.  None of this is cut and dried – if we can hold on, ride this out, we can have choices again. If we let go, we are in a whorlpool place with no control. Saying it though, is like banging my head against a wall. No one understands.

I’m writing this because my friends think I should keep a record and write a book. When I write it, my kids don’t like it. I’m so sorry it makes people uncomfortable. I’m sorry I don’t let the problem stay faceless. My gods, there are millions of people in this country going through the same thing. Many are already living in their cars. I’m praying we can save enough to not have to resort to living in the Jimmy. I pray we don’t have to put our cats down.

I’m simply praying.

I know how long this has gone on.

I KNOW.

I KNOW.

I know how uncomfortable it makes those watching.

I know how uncomfortable it makes those who love us.

I hope it messes with the politics in this country ENOUGH that someone figures out answers – something besides putting us to work as road builders. I can’t do that kind of manual labor. Half the people I meet today are cleaning houses. HA! If they are lucky.

I can knit till I have mounds of socks and gloves and scarves and shawls – I can bead till I have boxes full of necklaces and earings – but no one is buying. Small business’s grass roots can’t take hold.

The country has become stagnant in so many ways. Can I make enough noise? Will they tune me out forever? Or will someone listen?

If you aren’t going to listen – I want to at least cause your discomfort. You can look away – but we both know there was an instant where you saw me and I caused you discomfort.

For two years President Obama pushed Health Care. That hurt me everytime I heard the words. Now that he wants re-election, he pushes jobs – that’s bullshit. If he’d pushed jobs from the beginning, and butted heads with Republicans, THEY would be answering to the people even if things continue to fall apart. NOW, voters can see that no one is gonna fix things. You can’t regulate this away. You can’t write a bill or force an ammendment, or undo an ammendment. Raising taxes scares people – not raising taxes scares people. Oh yes, there will be change. How it comes? Your guess is as good as mine . . .

it’s going to get worse before it gets better on EVERY level.

I’m sorry if you don’t like my blog. Really. I’m sorry we are hungry too. But it’s just the way it is right now. To my kids – I love you with my whole heart. THAT will never change no matter what this situation brings. I’m not thinking of a cheap, tiny rental to go too. I’m thinking where can I live off the land and forage and raise my own food and bypass the things this government has caused and can’t fix. I’m thinking survival. It really is on that level for right now.

discomfort . . . yep. Knowing about what the unemployed experience causes discomfort. I say we have no choice but to shout about it. Cause the change – If we go down, we drag the system with us. Somehow, that’s fitting.

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About Green Jean Granny

I believe in and practice positive living with a bit of a barb it seems. I love YARN, music, reading, history, and gemstones. I am passionate about the Earth. I am a true homebody. I've said I was Pagan for years to separate myself from a churchy upbringing and judgmental family that left me outside of its beliefs. I believe it's our responsibility to tend and protect the Earth. I basically do my thing in a (not so) quiet, amused way. I believe in the power of my own hands, the energy of combined prayer, and caring for the earth. I attend a nondenominational Christian Church. I have 6 kids, all home-born and successfully breastfed. The oldest 5 are grown. The youngest is attending Community College and living at home. I'm the oldest of 9, daughter of a missionary mother who lives in The Republic of Congo, married to the son of a preacher, with 3 spoiled dogs and and an add on (my daughter's pit bull lives here for a bit while she hikes the Appalachian Trail. Right now, there is small balance after yrs of unemployment. My disability was approved due to degenerative disc disease and fibromyalgia. I believe we owe it to ourselves to protect our mental health. It's precious and the one thing we can control. I dislike my own housework and I talk too much. I bought a house in North Carolina and after trying to get my husband here for 6 months, he had a stroke. I'm a two-time caregiver. Steve's got hemiparesis and diabetes and is learning to walk and trying to use his right side again. It's slow going. Our 10 kitties were rehomed by rescue after his stroke.
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4 Responses to discomfort

  1. kathysm says:

    Let me know if you change your mind about the seeds…..they’re still here if you want them. I’m still looking for the velcro shoes for G. Oh, and will you please email me your house address again?

    It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable to be here. Sadness, yes but it doesn’t keep me from being as close to you as I can and for now, that is here. I wish I could make this mess disappear for you. Loving you Amber.

  2. Sandy Stacey says:

    Wow, am I ever glad I came in here. Amber dear, you do not cause me discomfort. I’ve been there, starving and nearly selliing my soul to the ‘d’ to keep a roof over my head and this lasted for several years, taking jobs out West I would never have dreampt of doing. I lost 65 pounds in one month, that’s how much I was starving. living on coffee just didn’t work. It was the beginning of the end of me holding onto my teeth. Malnutrition sucks. Poverty sucks, BUT I can honestly say, that years later, around when I was 60, and was able to survive in a Provincial senior apartment, like I am now, on my pensions, looking back, and far away from the situation, I know poverty was my biggest lesson in survival and I learned it well. I would not wish it on anyone………….you WILL survive, my precious friend. You have the strength and will to do so. Oh god-dess, what can I say? I am so blessed with you in my life and heart. I love you with all my heart.

  3. write this book lady… do it

  4. AmethJera says:

    People who have not been in this situation don’t understand. It is beyond the comprehension of many. The other day I re-posted that Chick-fil-a had a breakfast giveaway and put up the address so anyone who wanted to could register could get a sandwich-and I got a raft of shit from Pagan and LBGT friends who sang the chorus of the evils of the administration of that company. Fine, point taken, and I usually don’t patronize them for just those reasons….However, there are people for whom that sandwich will be their only food for the day-maybe for several days. We still have a lot of people out on the street here, and all the shelters are full. They either can’t or don’t provide the services they promise,including breakfast…and then the make you leave for the day so you roam the streets looking for somewhere to get out of the heat or cold or rain…having that sandwich in your belly makes the difference between trying and not trying. Three years ago I was in that situation and I remember having 23 cents in my pocket No breakfast for days,and wandering around trying to find three more cents on the sidewalk so I could buy a bag of chips because I was so hungry. Personal and political issues aside, sometimes people just have to get over their own shit to help someone else, because it isn’t always about you.

    This morning 16 people had a hot sandwich for breakfast because I knew they would go to the library and get online- it’s they only little bit of connection most of them have, to get on Facebook and interact… They were homeless, poor, elderly and children. This morning I feel good that I helped someone else, a few I didn’t even know. It made a few of my politically liberal friends who are heavily into social justice issues and several of my LBGT friends uncomfortable…but they weren’t the ones who were hungry.

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