8 Months of Hell

I've been there before; standing in line at the food bank because I couldn't afford to buy it for myself. This wasn't the worst of it, as food is just a necessity - you do what you need to do in order to survive and provide food for you and your family. What it really hit hardest was to my self esteem, my pride, my feeling of being worth something. More than anything, I was ashamed.

It hadn't always been like this. There hadn't been a time in my life when I wasn't working. I had always had a job since I was 15, working at Santa's Village, and sometimes 2 jobs. Suddenly losing my job, then our car, and ultimately our apartment was a major blow - and one that came out of nowhere. I was left reeling from these events and fell into a depression, which didn't help the situation.

We moved into a motel and I became a miserable person - not only to myself, but to my wife and son, too. To make matters worse, I came down with gall stones... a painful and sometimes unpredictable affliction that causes excruciating pain. Without a job and without insurance, I was forced to visit emergency rooms, who could do little more than confirm my problem and provide me with limited relief via pills. One thing I'm thankful for during this time was that I was paranoid of addiction to the painkillers, so I was reluctant to take them until I could no longer cope with the pain - and only then take just enough to get me through it.

Eventually my gall bladder got to the point where it was life-threatening, so the hospital had no choice but to remove it. The ER visits, the hospital stay(s), and the surgery ultimately left us with an insurmountable debt - above and beyond what we were already dealing with. I felt hopeless about ever getting out of this situation.

This stage of my life lasted only 8 months, but it felt like years. Living in a run-down motel room, with boxes of our possessions lining the walls, a mini refrigerator, and a hot plate to cook with. I was fortunate enough to have a car, but having enough gas to just get around for necessities often proved a challenge. After a couple of months, I managed to pull a favor from an old boss I had and got a job waiting tables (part time). That was what ultimately pulled me out of the situation I had stumbled into.

Luck for me, during my time waiting tables again, a young gal started working the same sift as me. She was working nights waiting tables to earn some extra money for the holidays. A couple of months went by and she noticed my ability with computers, which prompted her to helping me get my current job. I'll always be grateful for her help.

There was a lot of personal growth for me, coming out of all of this and getting to where I am now. It showed me a lot of how the world works and how easy it can be to get blind-sided by something that causes a sudden downward spiral. It has ultimately led to me taking life less seriously and to enjoy every day more. There's less focus in my life on material things and more about spending time with the people I care about. I'm working on creating a financial cushion so I'm not having to worry month-to-month about my employment.

Now I find myself in a pretty good job, making a enough for a decent living for me and my son. It feels good, but the fear of going back to that food line has seemed to paralyze me into trying for something better. Where I would have jumped at better opportunities prior to the hell I went through, now I'm more bent on security and not chancing going back through any of it again.

Is it maturity? Is it fear? Is it a mix of both? I don't know, but this is something that's been on my mind recently.

Thanks for listening!

This entry doesn't want to live like that again.