I was going to say “Not sure if tired and cranky or hungry and alone”, when I realized I just went from an environment where I was well-fed and cared for back to being dirt-poor and by myself. I have brief moments in my life where I experience what it’s like to have a good, healthy environment, and then I come back home. It seems quality of life ultimately depends on one’s paycheck size.
(insert DUH here, but this is a very obvious example of it in my life right now)
In addition, I often hear “Starry you deserve [good thing]”, such as care, love, kindness, a full stomach, ect and I get REALLY CONFUSED when I’m given these things because I go without so much. And then, when I get these things it’s hard to conceptualize I should be treated/fed well in the first place.
I don’t live in poverty but I’m pretty fucking close to it. My quality of life depends on me working myself into the ground (to my benefit/detriment) and the good will of the people I know. Is it any wonder my mental, physical, and emotional health is strained and stapled together at best.... and “supporting myself” depends on how much money I have. I do well considering the lot I’ve been given. The thing is, near-poverty, like real poverty, is a damned hole you can be trapped in and even if you do your best to stay afloat and get out, the tides are against you.
I’ve been paddling for a long, long time. My health shows it. Heaven help me if I get into another conversation about why minimum wage is not liveable, period. I experienced a good life during my trip to see old friends and then I came back to this. It’s like a punch in the teeth, and I have to somehow take the hit without breaking and go on with my life, my version of “reality”.
Today I had to decide between getting groceries or buying a cat carrier for Kennedy. He’ll need to go to the vet on Monday. On a hopeful whim, I visited the humane society and asked if I could borrow/rent one of their spare carriers. The office ladies talked amongst themselves, deciding on several options within the space of a minute, and one lady went back to get one. They decided to let me have it permanently.
I walked outside with tears in my eyes. I had a cat carrier and I could buy groceries.
Between working hard and the kindness of others, I make ends meet like tying together the ends of a frayed rope. Knowing I deserve more than this is painful. This isn’t me being greedy or arrogant. I just want a basic human dignity: Comfort.
But my cat is purring and rubbing and shedding on me. I’m covered in marks from him kneading all over me last night because he is relieved I am home. I can tell he wasn’t eating while I was away. We comfort each other.
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