Last year right after buying my new car shit hit the fan. I got retrenched from work, the other started costing me money to work at so I left it. How the hell I have survived the past 9 months I am still not really sure. Somehow I have. And things slowly started looking better, Zanzibar is but a stretch away and yet it’s still just too far and the rope that I’ve been clinging to has come to a fast end.
There is nothing out there that will ever make me feel like a bigger failure than the bank phoning me to let me know they will be repossessing my car tomorrow. Wow ABSA. Way to kick a girl when she’s down. Thank you.
Up until Feb I’d been managing to make shit work for me, someone upstairs decided that I have not been tested enough as of yet and decided to trip me and then pull away the safety ladder so the past few months I’ve been hanging on for dear life and today my fingers are slipping.
This is reality. This is real life. There’s no point in sugar coating it at all. Like it or don’t. You can tell me to keep my dirty laundry to myself or to hush up and be positive but for what? Why should I pretend that shit is hunky dory when it so obviously is not?! And this during my fucking birthday week. How’s that for a cruel joke.
I am a survivor though. I keep getting told “it’s going to be okay” or “you always manage to keep going” that’s fucking fantastic. Thank you for that… but where exactly do I go from here hey?! Don’t you think that if I knew I’d be there already? That I’d be doing it already. Yes yes I’m sure I’ll manage something and look back and laugh but right this second I can’t see the next step. I have no back up, no fall back, I have no plan.
And that scares me most of all. I have no plan.
All I can say right this very moment is that I am very grateful to have amazing friends and family who are lending me all the positivity they can spare. I just hope that it’s enough…