WTF Is Happening?

Spoonie, Whovian, Nerd, Parent

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

Hey

I’m not going to go into details about why I had to leave my tumblr. But if you’re interested in following my design blog (where I may also start posting art), it’s TweeHaus.com/blog

I’ve finally got enough of the shit going on in my life under some semblance of control that I’m getting back into my graphic design work. I’d love the support via having an audience for my creations. Just don’t expect a whole lot of personal posts seeing as it’s a public platform.

I also post freebies there!

[spooniestrong]

[yuushino]

a family can be you and your 300 chrome tabs

[demonius-darkblade]

its weird to think horses were ever ‘prey animals’ because what fucking predator looks at a 8 foot tall ENORMOUS beast with pitch black devils eyes, terrifying teeth and extremely powerful legs and think ‘yeah lets go attack that one’

[degenerarchy]

well moose are still prey animals so

[demonius-darkblade]

thats fucked up, a moose is like a horse with extra weapons

[gerbildine]

Would you rather they be predators

[demonius-darkblade]

SHIT SHIT SHIT IM SO SORRY

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

More thoughts on living in poverty in developed nations.

When you meet someone else who has utilized the food bank or find out someone you already know has used the food bank you feel an immediate kinship. They understand. They get it. They’re not going to judge. 

If you can’t afford the good pet food you will feel guilty. When things improve marginally you’ll start buying the good food again even if you’re still eating noodles or peanut butter sandwiches for dinner. But you’ll still feel bad for transitioning your pet back and forth.

Sometimes you’ll end up having to feed your pet homemade food that’s even more expensive than the good pet food because you are too broke to buy even a bag of the cheap stuff but you do have ingredients to cook healthy pet food already in your house.

You will drag your disabled and introverted ass out of the house multiple times a week if it means you can access free activities with meals provided.

Building on that, if you live in a large enough community that there are mom groups, family meals, community potlucks, etc. you will thank your lucky stars you are not rural and poor. The rural poor face so many extra challenges and the charitable wealthy should keep that in mind when offering support.

Speaking of potlucks...you will worry that people will notice you always bring something cheap or somehow figure out that you brought something the food bank gave you.

Some food banks give you very little, and no fresh fruit or vegetables. Some food banks give you what they claim is 1-2 weeks worth of food but it’s more like 3-4 weeks worth and you can’t consume all of it before it goes bad.

You WILL get lots of food almost at or past it’s best before date from food banks. Most of the time, like for crackers, the best before date is practically meaningless. Other times you’ll be constantly trying to convince your kids to eat yogurt as a snack because you have a few days before that same yogurt will become a health hazard. Playing Russian roulette with expired foods instead of throwing them out to play it safe will destroy your sense of dignity.

In regards to the previous point, you will feel guilty each and every time you have to throw anything out even if it was already moldy when the food bank gave it to you.

You will feel extremely grateful if you have your own transportation to get to the food bank instead of trying to haul everything home on public transit.

Depending on the quality of your local food bank(s) you will eat better with food bank food than you have in years. The day you get to cook up two beautiful steaks for your family, when you haven’t had steak in years, will feel like a holiday celebration.

There’s a wonderful movement to get more fresh vegetables and whole foods into the hands of food banks. If you are disabled this may be problematic because now you have to do prep work that your body might not be up for. You’ll immediately feel guilty because beggars can’t be chooser, right?

You will occasionally try to scrimp and save for months or years, selling off possessions, forgoing other things you want, etc. to make some big dream purchase. Nine times out of ten something will come up and wipe out your savings fund every time you make progress until finally, you give up. The remaining one time out of ten you will have to struggle with the decision of whether you have a right to make that purchase no matter how hard you worked to save for it, no matter how much you want the thing, and no matter how much it would benefit you (even if it’s to mitigate a disability). You will struggle with the decision even more if it’s an item that the general population views as typically being a luxury or status symbol. You will probably decide you aren’t “allowed” to have the thing as a poor person and spend the money on either some everyday practicalities like bills or groceries or if you’re a parent, something special for your kids.

You can only sell so many pre-poverty possesions for extra cash before you run out of things to sell. You will notice your list of possible resale items dwindling and it will cause an unnerving sensation to quietly grow in the back of your mind as that tiny safety net gets smaller and smaller.

Community or government programs or tax benefits that are only accessible to people who are LESS poor than you (or not even poor at all) will drive you up a wall. You will feel a quiet rage burning inside when you look into a program, maybe a home-buyer assistance benefit or a tax benefit, that has a MINIMUM income cutoff in addition to a maximum income cutoff. You will also be infuriatingly annoyed at social assistance programs that are only eligible to homeowners. 

Community or government programs or tax benefits that are only accessible to people who are POORER than you will at least make sense to you, but will still be a source of frustration. You will feel like you’re falling through the cracks. You’re not well enough off to get by without help, but not bad enough off to get enough help.

You will feel guilty for feeling sorry for yourself in regards to the last two points. If you truly were in dire need you’d qualify for more help, right? Social assistance programs couldn’t possibly be designed in a flawed manner, right? If you can’t access help it means you shouldn’t need it, right? Obviously, you’re in a position where you just need to bootstrap and suffer in quiet dignity, right?

It is extremely difficult to withstand social expectation in group settings. If you find yourself, for example, in a restaurant for a meeting or meetup of some sort you will have to choose whether to order something you don’t want to spend the money on or spend hours surrounded by people eating delicious food all the while terrified someone will be the pushy, nosey asshole that insists you must explain why you are just drinking water and then everyone will see through whatever excuse you might come up with and know that you’re a Poor Person™ and all the assumptions about you that come with that. You will eventually come to hate the social tradition of having meetings, gatherings, etc. in restaurants and cafes.

Unfortunately, in relation to the above, you will also hate having people over to your home where they can see your poverty in the partially painted wall you had long ago splashed samples on but then ended up unable to afford paint to complete, and the broken furniture you can’t replace. This will be even truer if you’re disabled and struggle to keep on top of the mess that children and pets naturally create but obviously can’t afford to hire help.

In relation to that point, there aren't really charitable organizations or social welfare programs to provide cleaning services to the disabled. There should be. Not everyone has a disability that lands them in assisted living...but that doesn’t mean they’re able enough to do all the chores a healthy person can. In the spectrum of PRISTINELY CLEAN to  UNHOLY FILTH there is an area where things are “acceptable” (as in CPS isn’t going to come in and take your kids, nobody is going to condemn your building, etc.) but it’s still a bad enough mess that you isolate yourself from embarrassment. You feel you can’t have people over. There’s a lack of dignity and it desaturates your soul to live that way (even more so if your disability keeps you at home most of the time).

Your kids will probably have nicer and/or newer furniture than you.

You will have to avoid sites like Pinterest because even the “cheap” DIY projects aren’t affordable for you and it’s just depressing.

You won’t have cable, but occasionally you’ll get stuck watching HGTV in a waiting room or something. Shows like House Hunters International will make you want to throw things and scream “EAT THE RICH!”

Even though you know that everybody is entitled to their own spending priorities (and that means some people of means will spend what seems an incredible amount of money on this hobby or that item but whatever, it’s their money), there will be moments when you learn about a price point or spending habit and you just. can’t. fathom. it. The day you learn that people spend, for example, $600 on bottle service in a club (for what would be a $150 bottle of booze in a store) your brain will implode. You will never understand how any drink could taste $600 good (or $150 good for that matter). You will face the fact that you will never be able to relate to certain types of rich people.

You are unable to afford to live by the principle of “spending money to save money.” You will, therefore, have to continually replace cheap items that break or wear out. You will have to buy smaller packages of food instead of the larger size with a better price per serving. You will have to buy the cheapest insurance you legally can. 

Thrift stores can often cost significantly more than big box stores. 

The idea of boycotting Walmart (because they’re fuckers that deserve it and they treat their employees, communities, and the world like shit) is a nice fantasy which you know you can never indulge in. You can’t afford to live by your principles when it’s back-to-school and you can get a week’s worth of shirts for your kids for $15 per kid. 

People who have never actually been POOR think they know what poor people need to do. Their advice is usually only helpful in showing you that they have no fucking clue what poverty is really like.

You can’t lower your expenses by cutting out buying lunch and giving up your regular latte when you weren’t doing those things in the first place. Ditto for ditching cable, buying used items, opting for at-home manicures, shopping around for a cheaper phone service, etc.

[ssweet-obliviionn]

Well fuck, who’s gonna tell them that Super Man is an illegal immigrant?

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

THAT.

[wombatking]

The DC trinity is a Jewish anti-gun activist, a illegal immigrant whose arch-nemesis is a billionaire industrialist, and a bisexual feminist pacifist. 

[justlookatthosesausages]

can we print this on shirts please

[geekandmisandry]

Reblog to support the Doctor, transgender gay queen of the universe.

[queerhollyleaf]

[[screenshot of facebook comment by Friedrich Schulz:

“DR Transgender just had a SEX CHANGE & is now GAY MARRIED to River song ,It is Gay QUEEN of the universe … & they wonder why we stop watching”

Tue at 11:54 pm]]

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

God save the Queen.

[redofthehood-deactivated2022070]

For months, every morning when my daughter was in preschool, I watched her construct an elaborate castle out of blocks, colorful plastic discs, bits of rope, ribbons and feathers, only to have the same little boy gleefully destroy it within seconds of its completion.

No matter how many times he did it, his parents never swooped in BEFORE the morning’s live 3-D reenactment of “Invasion of AstroMonster.” This is what they’d say repeatedly:

“You know! Boys will be boys!” 

“He’s just going through a phase!”

“He’s such a boy! He LOVES destroying things!”

“Oh my god! Girls and boys are SO different!”

“He. Just. Can’t. Help himself!”

I tried to teach my daughter how to stop this from happening. She asked him politely not to do it. We talked about some things she might do. She moved where she built. She stood in his way. She built a stronger foundation to the castle, so that, if he did get to it, she wouldn’t have to rebuild the whole thing. In the meantime, I imagine his parents thinking, “What red-blooded boy wouldn’t knock it down?”

She built a beautiful, glittery castle in a public space.

It was so tempting.

He just couldn’t control himself and, being a boy, had violent inclinations.

She had to keep her building safe.

Her consent didn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like she made a big fuss when he knocked it down. It wasn’t a “legitimate” knocking over if she didn’t throw a tantrum.

His desire — for power, destruction, control, whatever- - was understandable.

Maybe she “shouldn’t have gone to preschool” at all. OR, better if she just kept her building activities to home.

I know it’s a lurid metaphor, but I taught my daughter the preschool block precursor of don’t “get raped” and this child, Boy #1, did not learn the preschool equivalent of “don’t rape.”

Not once did his parents talk to him about invading another person’s space and claiming for his own purposes something that was not his to claim. Respect for her and her work and words was not something he was learning.  How much of the boy’s behavior in coming years would be excused in these ways, be calibrated to meet these expectations and enforce the “rules” his parents kept repeating?

There was another boy who, similarly, decided to knock down her castle one day. When he did it his mother took him in hand, explained to him that it was not his to destroy, asked him how he thought my daughter felt after working so hard on her building and walked over with him so he could apologize. That probably wasn’t much fun for him, but he did not do it again.

There was a third child. He was really smart. He asked if he could knock her building down. She, beneficent ruler of all pre-circle-time castle construction, said yes… but only after she was done building it and said it was OK. They worked out a plan together and eventually he started building things with her and they would both knock the thing down with unadulterated joy. You can’t make this stuff up.

Take each of these three boys and consider what he might do when he’s older, say, at college, drunk at a party, mad at an ex-girlfriend who rebuffs him and uses words that she expects will be meaningful and respecte, “No, I don’t want to. Stop. Leave.”

The “overarching attitudinal characteristic” of abusive men is entitlement

[gettingahealthybody-deactivated]

This is so brilliant. We learn things from socialization process. What our parents, friends and peers do, media and all. I think perhaps rape is because parents think boys will be boys, they bully, fight and destroy things, it’s their characteristics so they don’t bother to stop them. But it manifests in them, knowing or unknowingly, they will just think, because I’m a boy and boys tend to do these, so it doesn’t matter even if the girl hates it, says no, because I’m a boy.

Just reblog this, this message is really powerful. For parents and future parents.

[ami-angelwings]

What’s also interesting, is if you frame this as about spoiling your children, and about spoiled children, people tend to agree and get it. They’ll agree that children whose parents lay down no boundaries for them when they hurt others, who let them have whatever they want at the expense of others, and justify away the harm they do, will probably grow up thinking they can do this to others (usually weaker than them, or they perceive as weaker) as adults.  But if you mention the word “privilege”, “entitlement” or anything relating to gender, everybody freaks the f- out and will deny up, down, back, forth, and sideways that how you raise a child, what you allow them to get away with, or training them that their hurtful behaviour will always be justified, can affect them at all. 

[ozziescribbler]

ALL OF THIS.

Obligatry read FOR EVERYONE

[yencid]

The Problem with ‘Boys Will Be Boys’

[pollariis-blog]

THIS

[bbcamerica]

New season. New Doctor. New look! 

[agentverbivore]

I’ve seen some complaints about how ugly this outfit is, but you guys - this is PRECISELY how someone who has been a questionably styled man for 1300+ years would attempt to dress a woman’s body. I effing love it. Doctor, you hopeless, wonderful creature.

[rnelodyy]

okay but imagine tho

nobody recognizes thirteen as the Doctor at first because “you never told me you can change gender????”

but then kate lethbridge-stewart from UNIT stops by, and thirteen immediately braces herself for another five minutes of trying to prove she’s the Doctor

and kate’s just like “hi Doctor good to see you again here’s the deal”

“hold on, you recognize me? how’d you know it was me?”

“honey, you’re the only person in the universe who would even begin to think about putting something like THAT on their body”

[aprilslady-deactivated20181029]

See I’m just thinking when Thirteen first came into existence all she could think about was Bill’s unparalleled lesbian style so the Doctor decides she would like the emulate the Peak Gay Look but, being the Doctor, she produces this

[sepdet]

somewhere the ghost of John Nathan-Turner is beaming and whispering “don’t forget the decorative vegetable” into the new showrunner’s ear

[gifcraft]

[big-chicken]

cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat cat

[bigstupids]

this cat lives in a show horse barn which is why it walks and runs that way

[rustymetallilacs]

THIS CAT THINKS ITS A HORSE

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

I get to see the geneticist (who has a really great rep with EDS patients, and has EDS himself) in February! That’s a lot sooner than I thought I’d get booked (when I asked to be put on the cancellation wait list they said they weren’t booking until spring).

Hopefully, he can confirm EDS or HSD or something to explain my whacked out body.

[thenatsdorf]

[cheasethings]

The poise… the balance… the PRESENCE

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

Here’s a bunch of thoughts on “first-world” (what a shitty term) poverty. Please keep in mind that there is a difference between being BROKE and being POOR. I have been both in my life. Broke sucks but it just doesn’t compare to poor. Broke has a light at the end of the tunnel. Broke is living on ramen to get through college. Broke is passing up on a girl’s night knowing you will catch the next one. Broke is running out of money for a while because you used it all. Poor is living on ramen indefinitely. Poor is never having girl’s nights and not even really knowing what a girl’s night entails because it’s too out of reach to experience. Broke is running out of money before you even spent everything you needed to on bills and necessities. It’s OK to complain about being broke. Broke isn’t fun. But please don’t think that conversations about poverty are the time and place to do so.

It is far, far, faaaar more difficult to get government assistance than some people (*cough couch Conservatives cough cough*) make it out to be. And the sheer amount of paperwork and differing criteria for various programs is dizzying. This program counts child support as income, that one doesn’t. This one needs three months of all business expenses and income for your Etsy store (even if you only make $12 a month in a good month). That one needs your doctor to fill out a multiple page form and wants a list of EVERY medical professional you’ve visited in the last TWO YEARS and when. That one requires you to report ALL income and assets each month. This one won’t let you have any real savings so, sorry, you’re never going to own a house or have a legit emergency fund to help keep you from falling deeper into poverty. And while you’re filling out all this information and then while you’re waiting after submitting it you get NOTHING. Good luck trying to survive in the months (and sometimes years) the process takes!

The guilt and shame NEVER stop. Anytime you spend even $5 on yourself you will feel bad. Anytime you don’t want to try to sell something that might bring in some cash (no matter how helpful or sentimental or otherwise important it might be) you will feel bad. Anytime you have to tell your kids “no, we can’t afford that” for even the humblest of requests you will feel bad. Anytime you have to ask for more time to pay a bill you will feel bad. Anytime you visit the food bank you will feel bad. Anytime somebody helps you, no matter how grateful you also feel, you will feel bad. KNOWING that you’re doing your best, KNOWING that humanity is a social species that generally tries to look out for each other, KNOWING the justifications and sociology and all that crap that explains your situation and validates that poor people are not inherently immoral will not stop you from FEELING all the shame and guilt the darker parts of our culture heap on those in poverty.

You will have to accept help from organizations that make you uncomfortable sometimes (I’m looking at you anti-LGBTQ+ fuckers in charge at the Salvation Army - or you church groups who think helping the poor is an invitation to also proselytize to them without any thought to their own religious beliefs or background) but desperation doesn’t make room for indignation or personal preference. And if you gotta choose between actually giving your kids a halfway decent Christmas or not having Jesus shoved in your face, well it’s not really a choice at all.

 You will discover some interesting priorities. Like maybe you’ll go two or three years without a haircut but drop the cash on multiple colors of at-home hair dye for your kids. Maybe you’ll have a good smartphone (though never the latest model) because of all the ways it benefits you (especially if you’re legit an ADHD hot mess) but you’ll be damned before you spend money fixing anything on your car that doesn’t prevent it functioning. Or maybe you’ll occasionally spring for a sentimental item for a collection but your pants have holes in them and only one of your bras actually fit right. And, going back to my second bullet point, you will always feel guilty about whatever it is you prioritized, no matter what else you sacrificed to do it and no matter how much that priority either improves or brightens your life.

Building on the previous point, everything is a choice. Everything you buy means something else you can’t buy. If you get new shoelaces, you can’t get that bottle of oven cleaner. If you buy hot cider mix you can’t also get hot cocoa mix and you will have to explain to your kids why you can only get the one little treat. If you use the gas in your car to go to the pharmacy you will have to postpone driving to the doctor’s office to pick up that paperwork you need. Everything is a trade-off.

Most tips, tricks, hacks, etc. for stretching a budget are for abled people. So have fun trying to find any useful advice that takes into consideration your limitations.

Building on that...disability is expensive. Copays cost money. Easy-to-prepare, or already prepared foods for when you’re not healthy enough to cook cost money. Over-the-counter medications (Aleve, allergy pills, etc.) cost money. Heating pads cost money. Gatorade (hey POTSies!), even if you get the cheaper powdered stuff, still costs money. Braces and compression gloves cost money. Gadgets (like the truly wonderful Fasta Pasta) or assistive tech cost money. Gas and parking for medical appointments cost money. Dry shampoo and disposable face cloths for days you’re unable to shower cost money. Shower stools for days you are able to shower cost money. Transportation for distances you might have just walked pre-disability costs money.

Be prepared to give up ever seeing a movie in theatres ever again. Even renting a movie on iTunes is a luxury. Have fun trying to avoid spoilers while you wait for movies or TV shows to become available in a format you can afford.

If you’re fortunate enough to not be addicted to smoking you will be extremely grateful to not have that extra expense. And grateful again if your health conditions prevent drinking alcohol. Even cheap alcohol is expensive. [No judgment for smokers. Quitting that shit is possibly the hardest thing a person will ever do. But if you haven’t started yet, don’t!] 

You will have trouble sleeping because you’re worried about how you’re going to pay which bills when.

Blankets, hoodies, and socks will be crucial because you can’t fucking afford to turn up the thermostat in the old, drafty apartment with shit insulation that you live in. Warm drinks are also helpful. [If you can acquire or already have a space heater and/or heating pad it’ll become your best friend.]

Even if a good apartment in a good location opens up at a cheaper rent...you cannot afford the expense of moving (especially if you’re disabled and would have to hire movers).

You feel a little nervous everytime you drive your very old, very high-mileage vehicle because you know it can’t last forever (especially when you can’t afford to keep up on maintenance like you ideally should) and when it dies you are fucked. There will be no replacing it.

Any high-quality items you had from before you were poor (if you were lucky enough to have a period of your life before you lived in poverty) will cause you to feel happiness and gratitude mixed with anxiety and shame. Those wonderful, expensive, name brand boots that are lined with sheep-skin and are the only pair of boots that have ever come close to keeping your Reynaud’s fucked-up toes some semblence of warm will be extremely cherished...but you’ll also worry that people will think you’re faking being poor or judge you for having nicer boots than your children (because kids need new boots almost every season and you can’t afford name-brand anything for them but you’ve been wearing your boots for years). 

In addition to the previous bullet point, if any of those awesome pre-poverty items ever break it will be absolutely heartbreaking. For example, maybe you were once given a beautiful, bubblegum pink Dyson vacuum as a gift and one day it falls down the stairs when you’re trying to use the hose attachment to clean the steps and you can’t afford the service free to fix your now-broken dream machine nor replace it with anything that will every function even a fraction as well so you’re forced to try to figure out how to vacuum with a machine that won’t stay in one piece anymore.

Buying in bulk or stocking up when items are on sale is a luxury for middle-class and rich people. Even if your budget is sometimes flexible enough to allow you to buy more than you need *right now* where the fuck are you supposed to store all that bulk toilet paper or soup or whatever in the size apartment you can afford? 

Bonus or unexpected income quickly disappears before you can use it for a long-wanted bigger purchase. It’s best not to dream about ever splurging on anything more than $40. <--Even $40 for a want will never happen if things are bad enough. Maybe you’ll get $100 for your birthday but that’s probably gonna get spent on necessities or presents for your kids anyhow.

Not being able to buy stuff for your kids is the worst. But you will also hate not being able to give to charity.

You will judge rich people who spend their money on stupid shit or who have what you think is terrible taste. You will probably at some point think “wealth is wasted on the wealthy.” Keep your opinions to yourself (or bitch with like-minded friends), but don’t try to fight having those thoughts. It’s one of the few indulgences you can have for free.

You will ache with jealousy when somebody wins a free vacation or $500 or whatever in some silly radio contest and immediately mentally plan what you would do if you won $500 (which debts you’d pay down, which items that you’ve been waiting months or years to purchase you’d finally get, and so on) when you will suddenly be struck by just how little $500 really is because it covers so little of your list.

Paradoxically to the above, any unexpected expense that pops up for $500 will destroy your life. Even an unexpected expense of $100 can devastate you financially. $500 is nothing. $500 is a fortune. $500 will do nothing to actually lift you out of poverty. $500 will do everything to keep you forever trapped in poverty.

You will have to learn to carry the grief that comes from knowing you’ll never own a home.

People will, in an attempt to be helpful, suggest Habitat for Humanity to you when you make some dry, dark joke about spending the rest of your life renting. Habitat for Humanity requirements are ableist. You will never qualify for a Habitat home if you’re too disabled to work a certain number of hours per week and too disabled to contribute 500 volunteer hours to building the house. Sorry disabled people, but fuck you?

You will both be afraid of people finding out how poor you really are and wish that people knew how much you were struggling.

There will always be somebody poorer than you which will just make you feel ungrateful for not appreciating the comparative wealth you do have. Try not to let yourself get dragged into the Misery Olympics. 

No matter how much you know that you will never ever win the lottery and even wasting a single dollar on a scratch-off ticket is irrational in the extreme, occasionally you will waste that dollar for a brief moment of ill-conceived hope and fantasy.

You will spend months looking forward to your free Birthday Starbucks drink.

You will not partake in free birthday meals or desserts at sit down restaurants because you a: can’t afford to buy meals for your kids if you go and b: you can’t afford to tip your server (and fuck not tipping your server).

You will actually stress about the possibility that someday you might inherit some money because if it’s too much it might level you out of qualifying for the programs and assistance you need without being enough to pay off your debts nor get you out of poverty long term.

You will have to accept that people who interact with you, if they know your level of poverty (or can guess based on your clothes), will make assumptions about your character, intelligence, education, etc. based solely on the fact that you’re poor. You could be whip-smart, university educated, and worldly. You could love literature and Tchaikovsky and know the names of different art movements and which artists pioneered them. You could be up-to-date on news and politics. You could be well read and well spoken. You could be the smartest, wisest person in the room but some people will only ever see you as classless, ignorant, trash.

Cutting your own hair and butchering it isn’t that big a deal if you can get away with wearing it in a ponytail every day. Getting rid of some length will save you time and shampoo so you might as well just do the hack job and hide it as best as you can. That said, a side shave IS easy to do for yourself so if you dig that aesthetic and have or can borrow some clippers go for it!

Get used to turning down any activities, even free ones, that require a babysitter. You can’t afford a babysitter. 

Being poor is really fucking hard. Being poor and disabled is even harder. Being poor and disabled and a single parent is even harder than that. Being poor and disabled and a single parent with no family or close friends in town to help out will make you feel like every day requires superhuman effort just to survive. So if you’re dealing with ANY of that shit, you should feel really fucking proud of yourself. You’re carrying a burden many people will never understand nevermind actually face. It sucks. It shouldn’t be that hard. But YOU are a badass for living through it anyhow.

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

I Need Some Help

I never wanted to ask for donations on Tumblr because, I guess, I was saving that option for when things were really truly desperate. 

I guess that time is now.

Because I have negative $365 in my bank account. I need gas in my car to take my kids to this weekend’s custody exchange. My oldest needs new winter boots because hers have leaking holes in them (I tried sealing them with silicone but it didn’t work so I had to send her to school wearing trash bags over her socks to keep her feet dry).  (Boots acquired thanks to a donation! Thank you!) I have unpaid past-due bills. We have no fresh fruit in the house and we’re almost out of cereal (I already went to the food bank this month and there’s a waiting period before you can go again). I can’t refill my medication because I literally have no money for my copay. My vacuum broke (and our dog sheds so much I can’t understand how he isn’t naked by now). I lost one of my gloves (from my only pair of gloves). I live in Canada, driving without gloves in the winter is painful. We are down to one roll of TP in the house. Plus there are a million other little things that need attending.

I’m still filling out all my disability paperwork and my paycheck is minuscule because I’m only able to work 3 hours a week because of my health (and even that one shift is a challenge sometimes). Last month I missed several weeks’ shifts due to illness and because my mom died. My next paycheck is only about $100, and I won’t get any more money after that until the 15th (it’ll be $350, so not even enough to pay off my overdrawn bank account). 

I’m humiliated and ashamed and overwhelmed. And I’m terrified that by even asking for help that somehow my abusive ex will find out and use it to try to convince the courts to take away custody of my kids. But I have to try.

So if you can send anything to my paypal (hollyvangogh at gmail dot com) or Walmart.ca gift card or send us something off this Amazon.ca wishlist you’d have the eternal gratitude of disabled, single mom.

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

The Amazon wishlist has been taken care of. And I’m trying not to cry in public because I’m so touched. I realize tumblr has well-earned it’s moniker of “hell site” but tumblr can also be a wonderful place with with wonderful people who restore your faith in the species.

[twelvesclockworksquirrel]

I’ve had three wonderful and generous Tumblr-ers help out. I was able to put gas in my car, order boots for my daughter, plus take care of two bills. TP, gloves, cereal, and more are on the way, and I should be able to refill my meds later today. I was even able to get a book for each of my “Little Daleks” to put under the tree next month from Santa (they have gotten a new book every Christmas since they were born and I was worried I might have to break with that tradition this year).

Things are still a stressful mess, but I am extremely appreciative and want to now direct people to help elsewhere. I think we can make it to the end of the month and I’ll get some direct deposits then. Plus I got some holiday help lined up via community assistance in my city for December. So I want anybody who might be in a position to help out an internet stranger to now pass by this post and find someone still struggling more than we are.

Thank you again to the three wonderful people who helped no questions asked and to signal boosters.  You all give Tumblr a good name.

[angrypunkandtrans]

[starsleeps]

A praying mantis ghostwrote this

[nevaehtyler]

your daily reminder

[pseudophan]

all of the above

[paradoxymora]

@twelvesclockworksquirrel