Bills I didn't even know I had.

Bills I DID know I had, but whose amounts surprise me.

And no job. No work. I'd been expecting to work at the college this term, teaching... that's what I have been doing, and it's been working out fine... until this term, when classes got cancelled. So no job.

So no money.

So the bills, which normally aren't fun but I can sort-of manage... yeah.

So I'm going to loose my place to stay. I'm going to loose one of the few GOOD things I thought I'd found in my life. I'm going to loose the only household I've ever lived in that was more-or-less accepting of my kink and WASN'T a bunch of college kids.

So I'm upset. Quite a bit upset, actually. I want to be strong, and tough, and capable. I want to be perfectly able to take care of myself. I want to get it all right, to make it all perfect. I want it to work out. I want to be able to get through life without having to depend on other people.

I keep failing.

And I swear, I SWEAR, I'm not trying to fail. I don't ASK to be sick, I don't WANT to have my job unexpectedly cancelled and Caleb's job refuse to pay him, I don't HOPE that people will yell at me, that bills will be for unexpected amounts or come at unexpected times. I don't DEMAND that the people who control my health care, or my home, decide that I am the scum of the earth.

*sighs*

Some days, it doesn't seem to matter what I say, or what I do. Everything just falls apart, and I can sit here and watch it crumbling, not able to do anything about it. I know exactly what will happen if I go out and get a 'normal' nine-to-five job. After a month of getting NO sleep 'cos I am working at my usual sleeping hours, of getting LOTS of stress because my memory fails at inconvenient times or because I'm not perfect for the job, of being around people, lots of people, often enough to make me panic... I'll be sick. And I'll loose my job. And then that'll make the next one even harder to get.

It's this really unpleasant downward spiral - the more I work, the more it fucks me over. The more fucked-over I am, the harder it is to get work... and the more I need it. It's... gah. It's UNFAIR.

I know life isn't ever really fair, and honestly, I don't always expect it to be. But some things... I expect other people to treat me with the same respect I treat them with, particularly people whose JOB it is to treat me with respect and deal with me. I expect people to be understanding of troubles, rather than condemning me for it and telling me that 'I must want to live like that' when it should be obvious to anyone with half a brain that no, I don't want my life to SUCK, sorry. I expect that although no, I won't get something for nothing, that maybe I WILL get something for all the effort I put into it.

I am not trying to be useless. I am not trying to be a burden. I am not TRYING to be anything but me... why is it so damned hard?

I'm sorry - this isn't really my normal sort of rant. This is just a very frightened girl pouring out her anger at a system that seems determined to stop every effort she makes to survive.