The Year Without Any Money has come to an end recently when I got the scholarship I applied and hoped and hoped for, and without which I'd be sitting in some job somewhere developing software again. I've been banking on student assistance when starting my studies, and have been denied on a technicality I wasn't aware of when I researched my eligibility. I'm unable to work and study simultaneously because health and because I didn't want to drop all the projects that don't pay the bills (yet). I sure as fuck didn't want to stop studying either, so I didn't, holding on to that hope.
When I'm poor - not the first time that happened - I don't buy non-essentials. I can get by with very, very little, a skill I'm proud of. Having had a well-paying job before (well-paying enough that part-time still fed me, partner, dog and allowed me to save money and buy things), I had savings (that lasted most of the year, had to borrow from my parents at the end, though, which I'm in the quite privileged position of being able to do). I also had stuff.
If you've had stuff before, poverty isn't really poverty, the first few months. There's monthly bills, yes, but I had a PC, laptop, games, musical instruments, a nice DSLR, warm clothes, furniture, books, tools, you name it. I could go for months not buy anything except rent and food and not lack anything.
But the longer this went on, the harder it got. A seam opening on one shoe. The laptop making trouble. The dog getting sicker. A rip in the backpack. A stolen bike. The toner cartridge running its course. Things don't get replaced anymore. The first cold you use up the medication you still have, the next you tough it out. Walking barefoot in summer again to spare the shoes. Barely heating in winter, leaching off the neighbors heat and relying on the heating blanket. Missing the nicer, more expensive salami and cheese.
If you've had money before, poverty isn't really poverty, the first few months. But it slowly creeps in, settling around you as a blanket of impossibilities. No, I can't come to the movies. No drinks for me tonight, thanks. Is there an admission fee? Doing the required reading on the laptop that you can't take to class anymore because the battery's only good for five minutes even fully charged, and taking extensive notes to compensate not having it with you in class. Layering, and layering, and layering in winter because the one warm coat's zipper's broken. Sewing the backpack in class. First walking more from the lack of a bike, then less, rather not leaving the house at all.
None of this is particularly remarkable, many people live like this their whole life, and I wasn't particularly suffering from it (again, for real emergencies I have a family that could and would offer assistance). Now that I have money, I find it hard to get into the habit of spending again. It's been nearly two months, and all I've bought is a coat repair, shoelaces, dog epilepsy medication and better cheese. I'm paying back my debts at a faster rate than planned, because I'm just not touching the money. It's as if I've forgotten how to.
But it feels so much better. The worrying, the uncertainty, the what ifs with no answer - all gone. The impossibilities dissolved and things are accessible again. I might access them one day. In the meantime, I’m darning my socks for winter.
