Update or blog post...
In support of
Rachel Drouillard and Kids
View Support Page
Rachel Drouillard and Kids
This morning a door dash driver handed me a small bag with a large-print receipt stapled and then, with absolute confidence...an empty coffee cup. He left ignorant of the unintended consequence of his error blooming deep in my gut.
Over the last 2 years I've been battling depression, poorly. Making choices that I knew would compound but finding myself struggling to do...anything really, let alone make the wiser choice. Depression has been my constant companion but this was different. This was some twisted depression/political terror/perimenopause/undiagnosed adhd mega combo that had me running to the doctor for higher SSRIs and supplemental meds and therapy.
And all the things in my life stayed. Except my uncle died. And my son began HGH injections due to a benign cyst on his pituitary that could have been diagnosed sooner if I'd bothered. And my daughter was headed into a holding pattern with her transition because the state of Ohio abandoned her. And then my pipe dreams of moving were ruined because the federal government followed suit. And her disdain for writing and reading were about to bring her schooling and whether it's supportable into the forefront of our lives in a BIG way. And then I got transferred to a new block of business that had a steep learning curve. And then my beloved aunt died and I compartmentalized like a fucking boss...except I did so well that the grief comes in trickles and it feels like a betrayal. And then my daughter had some sort of mental health episode and had to be admitted to the hospital. And then I was taken to court over a debt and had to pay an attorney to settle. And when I couldn't make the agreed upon payments, a year later they decided to garnish my wages. And the hole just kept getting deeper. And my ability to handle it was not even a thought I could think myself until I absolutely had to.
The breaking point came in the days before and after Kristin put this together. The eviction was filed and my picky af kids were living on pasta w/parmesan and endless mac & cheese. My mom agreed to cosign a loan to help me get things back to rights and pay rent while I figure out whether debt settlement or bankruptcy was going to help me, though that didn't pan out. While I made calls I'd been avoiding for far too long and while my mom graciously paid off my rent every cent that you all shared kept me and my kids fed. Kept the internet on so I could work. Kept the literal lights on. I can never ever thank you enough for that.
I'm officially on the road to actually doing things about my debt and this past Friday was the first time that I've actually seen a paycheck in months (not an exaggeration at all). Things are currently going to continue to be tight for the next month as we get caught up on some other utilities and work to stay on budget. I'm a perpetually independent person and for me, asking for help is a lot more difficult than accepting it, which is why telling you that we're not quite out of the woods yet sucks. We are going to be a little short on rent because there are things that are 2 months behind that need attention so any continued help would be a huge relief.
Regardless, I've been breathing a little bit easier in the last week, even my therapist was surprised and said she felt like I was more optimistic than I've been in months. She might be right and honestly I hope so because my life has always been one thing after another, one trauma to the next, but I feel like I used to handle it better. I used to find the challenge in the change, the delight in the disappointment. I did not let an empty Panera coffee cup lead to a full sobbing emotional breakdown.
Except, knowing that it wasn't entirely about the lack of coffee...that it was months and months of pressure and anxiety finally finding a chink and erupting through it--it felt like healing.
See also: Clean by Taylor Swift
Over the last 2 years I've been battling depression, poorly. Making choices that I knew would compound but finding myself struggling to do...anything really, let alone make the wiser choice. Depression has been my constant companion but this was different. This was some twisted depression/political terror/perimenopause/undiagnosed adhd mega combo that had me running to the doctor for higher SSRIs and supplemental meds and therapy.
And all the things in my life stayed. Except my uncle died. And my son began HGH injections due to a benign cyst on his pituitary that could have been diagnosed sooner if I'd bothered. And my daughter was headed into a holding pattern with her transition because the state of Ohio abandoned her. And then my pipe dreams of moving were ruined because the federal government followed suit. And her disdain for writing and reading were about to bring her schooling and whether it's supportable into the forefront of our lives in a BIG way. And then I got transferred to a new block of business that had a steep learning curve. And then my beloved aunt died and I compartmentalized like a fucking boss...except I did so well that the grief comes in trickles and it feels like a betrayal. And then my daughter had some sort of mental health episode and had to be admitted to the hospital. And then I was taken to court over a debt and had to pay an attorney to settle. And when I couldn't make the agreed upon payments, a year later they decided to garnish my wages. And the hole just kept getting deeper. And my ability to handle it was not even a thought I could think myself until I absolutely had to.
The breaking point came in the days before and after Kristin put this together. The eviction was filed and my picky af kids were living on pasta w/parmesan and endless mac & cheese. My mom agreed to cosign a loan to help me get things back to rights and pay rent while I figure out whether debt settlement or bankruptcy was going to help me, though that didn't pan out. While I made calls I'd been avoiding for far too long and while my mom graciously paid off my rent every cent that you all shared kept me and my kids fed. Kept the internet on so I could work. Kept the literal lights on. I can never ever thank you enough for that.
I'm officially on the road to actually doing things about my debt and this past Friday was the first time that I've actually seen a paycheck in months (not an exaggeration at all). Things are currently going to continue to be tight for the next month as we get caught up on some other utilities and work to stay on budget. I'm a perpetually independent person and for me, asking for help is a lot more difficult than accepting it, which is why telling you that we're not quite out of the woods yet sucks. We are going to be a little short on rent because there are things that are 2 months behind that need attention so any continued help would be a huge relief.
Regardless, I've been breathing a little bit easier in the last week, even my therapist was surprised and said she felt like I was more optimistic than I've been in months. She might be right and honestly I hope so because my life has always been one thing after another, one trauma to the next, but I feel like I used to handle it better. I used to find the challenge in the change, the delight in the disappointment. I did not let an empty Panera coffee cup lead to a full sobbing emotional breakdown.
Except, knowing that it wasn't entirely about the lack of coffee...that it was months and months of pressure and anxiety finally finding a chink and erupting through it--it felt like healing.
See also: Clean by Taylor Swift
Comments