A Little Bit of Peace

The window is covered in dew this morning, it horribly humid outside. Still I can’t bring myself not to open the window and see the birds. The junior cardinals have been flying around the feeders like it’s a midnight rave for teenagers. Their colors are spotted and some have more red than others. The wren family is still here and comes around to feed every day, along with the blue jays, titmice and chic-a-dees. We have a new baby woodpecker that’s been coming around also. It’s not the same as the first one because this one doesn’t have any color coming in like the other one did.

Watching the birds seems to be the only bit of carefree that I feel lately. It’s hard to remember what it felt like with not having something to worry about and even if it’s for a split second in time while watching the birds, I’ll take it.

Moving from here seems to be getting farther and farther away as unexpected bills come up and take away from what I was saving. I just feel like I can’t get ahead no matter how hard I try. I know it sounds childish, but it’s just not fair. I have fought for so long and taken on burdens that were not mine alone to bare. I’m tired of nothing working in our favor.

How is it that someone that has a truly sturdy, well made house with no one else to take care of and not living paycheck to paycheck, gets help. Here I am with my house falling apart, living paycheck to paycheck and have people that depend on me for survival and I can’t get any form of help. It just doesn’t make sense to me. How is it that someone can come here to this country and get free handouts but yet I live here and am trying but yet I don’t get anything for free. Granted, I don’t expect not to have to work for something, it’s just the point of it.

Have I ever asked for help, yes. Have I ever gotten that help, no. Not even from FEMA after two hurricanes. The last FEMA agent, I asked them to come out and look at the damage to my roof. He never took one picture of my roof but instead came in the house and took a picture of my kitchen. What does my kitchen have to do with my roof? He said it would take a few days to get an answer and so he left. Not 20 minutes went by and I had a reject letter from him. He just wanted an excuse to leave so he could send that to me without having to tell me to my face that he had no plans of helping us with the storm damage.

I don’t take that as asking for something free though, I pay taxes and have for a very long time. I had a lot of storm damage and it was supposed to be there to help, but I guess only for a select few.

A while ago I did swallow my pride and put up a gofundme with an actual picture of my house. That was so hard for me to do as I never have anyone over because of the state that it’s in. It’s clean, don’t get me wrong, it’s just falling apart. But the gofundme, it broke my heart. Not one person took an interest in it. Does this mean that by public view, I am not worthy of helping? I feel hated when I think of this and it’s hard to let it go.

I don’t know what I’m going to do next in order to try and make things better. I’m not a roofer and I can’t afford one so it’s only a matter of time before it caves in. We’ve patched about all we can patch and another storm season is upon us. I’m scared of it and what it brings. This mugginess this morning almost seems like a precursor as it strangles the fresh air from my throat. Is this what is coming, I pray not.

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About meinaboxblog

I like to think I'm a normal everyday woman but my mind tells me otherwise. I fight my battles and post them here. I don't tell my family and real life friends that I write here. This is my own little way of having "someone" to talk to. My own little therapy session if you will. I welcome comments and opinions but I have enough negativity to last a lifetime already . My world is changing and now more than ever I need support and encouragement but I'm still too afraid to let anyone know that it's me writing here.