Worse than a beggar

What wakes me up this morning?

Money. The lack of it. The looming bills. We're out of cigarettes, I'll need at least 20 dollars of my psych meds, and an overdue electric bill. I've never been financially secure, save the few months worked at my old job, which I lost because of lupus.

That was such a blissful time. I could take care of myself then. Now I can't even, on my own, scrape enough money up to buy my own cat food and cat litter.

It balls up in my chest and sits on my ribs. It's hard to breathe. It jolts me awake. I don't know how to get through more than a few days - and often, not even that.

I've become a beggar of the worst kind - running my loved ones dry and asking strangers on the internet for money.

Paypal. Email: quirkytizzy@gmail.com

Worse than a beggar. Worse than a charity case.

I don't know what I've become, money wise, anymore, except that it wakes me up in the middle of the night and I have to breathe through it, reassuring myself that at this moment (3 AM, usually) I can doing nothing and I ought to get back to sleep.

It doesn't always work, but sometimes, if I'm lucky, the reality of my financial situation splits from the worry of my disease and I'm able to get in a few more hours of sleep, because lack of sleep sure as hell doesn't pay.

Here's hoping.

On the other hand, I googled the etymology of the full, medical term for lupus. Systemic Lupus Erythematosus. It breaks down in Latin, literally for "the red wolf."

The Red Wolf. That would make an awesome spy name. So when I get better, maybe I'll become a spy and call myself that. The Red Wolf. It'd be pretty cool.

This entry was originally posted at http://quirkytizzy.dreamwidth.org/1054473.html
Can`t you go to a local food pantry, they might also have cat food.
Im sorry. Been through that, & since i lost my job will be in your boat again soon.