Wednesday, 17 July 2013

Failure

I have one of my wake up pills left - I am supposed to be taking 4 a day. I will take it tomorrow morning and then that's it. We can't afford, right now, for me to get any more. Especially since the pharmacies are out of the generic ones and only have the more expensive name brand ones in stock.

I hate money. I hate hate hate it.

I get so frustrated that I work so damned hard 60 hours a week, plus 20 hours of school time (not including studying at home) and can't even afford a damned cup of coffee. I work so we can get by.

But to the outsider we look great. We own a house, our kids go to private school and we have two vehicles. Little do they know that we may have to pull the kids from school, are looking into selling the house, and the one vehicle was bought by my boss and is a work vehicle because we couldn't afford one when I needed one when Craig moved out.

I'm so angry lately.

I'm angry at Craig for getting to move out and leave us with this mess. I'm angry at us for working off of an incorrect budget. I am angry at me for not figuring that out sooner/doing it in the first place. I'm just angry. I am mostly angry at myself for allowing us to get into this situation where we are being forced to take the kids out of school or sell the house. I'm supposed to provide for the family, for the things we need.

I am the breadwinner, it's my job. Andrea is the homemaker and she does her job well. The kids are always fed, always seem happy, get out and do things, and the house is always relatively clean. But me, I can't even keep said house's roof over our heads. I feel like such an absolutely failure here.

I work for the kids, for Andrea, for the home, and I can't even take care of those things well. We are losing the home (most likely), the kids will be miserable without the school they love and lost if they go to public school. They will be made fun of for being different, and for not having the normal knowledge a kid of their age does. They will be outcasts, all because I couldn't make enough money for the things we thought we had enough money for.

There is a lot of pressure on me, even if its placed on me, by me - to provide. I have to provide. We cannot survive even a week without my working. I can't get sick, I can't get hurt, I can't do anything but work. And even when I do work, it's still not enough. If there was more time I'd get a third job - but then I wouldn't sleep. *sigh*

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