There is something to be said about independence.
For me, it is vital. My financial dependence on another human being was my ball and chain, my prison cell. My filthy house, my lack of self-esteem, my months of sleepless nights, the losing of myself...can all be accredited to my lack of financial independence.
And here I am, in the promised land, struggling to make ends meet. Counting pennies, praying that there will be food on the table tonight and shoes on their tiny feet. Every time I decide to have a more positive outlook there is another monster on my doorstep--today in the form of unexpected bill #332 since I moved here. This one for the holes in the walls of my old apartment, for the broken-down door, for the broken glass lampshades. A sick reminder that I made my bed and it is my responsibility alone to sleep in that damn bed, nightmare-ridden and far from morning.
I take responsibility for my situation. I blame nobody but myself. And because my own choices--regardless of my intentions when those choices were made--led me to this point, I will step up. I will pinch pennies. I will pray for small miracles. I will hold those babies like there is no tomorrow. And I will hold myself together. I might cry myself to sleep, I might lose it once in awhile, and I might forget how grateful I am to be here from time to time, but I will hold myself together.
It's natural to hate struggling, but I am building my strength and my love for myself. And to be honest, I take a strange pleasure in the struggle that is my life today. For nearly six years, I have begged the precious creator of my soul to give me loneliness. And I won't give it up without a fight.