Hope VS No Hope.

This might end up long. Then again, it might not. Honestly, I'm writing on a whim, so I really don't know. I didn't write at all on my 'vacation,' so I could concentrate on what could possibly be the only opportunity I had to do certain things with two of my children and have certain experiences. But now... I need to write.  I need to get it all out. The problem is... my words are gone. I feel so lost. So overwhelmed. So desolate, when just 24 hours ago I was still elated. How emotions can change in 24 hours. Welcome to the world of bipolar. I have come crashing down. I'm not ashamed to say so.

Before I go on with that, I do want to share some of the experiences and moments my son, daughter, and I had over the last 10 days. I always need to balance out my life, the good vs the bad. The last week and a half was definitely good. It was more than good. It was the most I have smiled in probably 10 years.  God gave me back a little piece of my life for a short time. Now I'm going to share it with you.

Most people come to Florida for vacation; we left it to go up north. Leaving the heat for a while was extraordinary.

We started in Maine.

Marginal Way; Ogunquit, ME:

Just me:

My son, Aspen:

My daughter, Andrea:

Then we had some time in New Hampshire.

Amazing Concerts/The Soulfest; Gilford, NH:

New experiences; Gunstock Mountain Resort:

Beautiful scenery:

Eventually, New York City. Somewhere I never thought I'd have a chance to go.

View from Central Park:

Time Square:

Then we made the long, rainy, treacherous, drive back to Florida.

I took the kids to their dad's.

And here I am.

The trip was amazing. I could write for days and days about our adventures, and I'm sure I will write about them, one by one. But, tonight... tonight my future is weighing on my mind. Or lack thereof. That looks in black-and-white as pathetic as it would have sounded if I'd said it out loud. "Or lack thereof." Really? How depressing. It's just how I feel. I'm depressed. I freely admit it. Bipolar roller coaster going down! Don't know how many loops are on the ride or how fast it will go, but it's definitely rolling along the tracks. Is it just a crash after having a wonderful time with my kids? Has a dam broken apart that has been holding it all behind bricks this whole time, just waiting to be set free in rolling, thrashing waves? Am I finally REALLY allowing myself to feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and firm reality for what it really is?

I'm angry. Hurt. Sad. Afraid. Unsure. Discouraged. Resentful and bitter, even. All things I need to get rid of, let go of.

Hopeful and hopeless at the same time; so contradictory. 

I am, indeed, a walking contradiction. After all, I have bipolar disorder. 

I sit here on my mattress, once again. I look around me, and I see the dog cage and the front door to a house that is not mine, to the left. I see a book case directly in front of me as I lean against the wall behind me and prop my feet up on the little pink flower box I have sitting on the floor just beside my twin mattress. To the right is the chair I sit in when I work, with the little white table that usually holds my laptop, what seems like a thousand blue Post-It notes, my anxiety medication, and empty Coke bottle with my daughter's name on it, my camera, and a frame that I have stuck pictures into the corners of to remind me every night that I have to keep fighting. I have to try and stay alive. Beyond that little table is another wall, my clothes, and a few other belongings; and that's it. This is what is "my space" right now, and I can't even really call it that. It's the front hallway of someone's house. This is where I "live." This is where I take up space. 

I am still essentially homeless. I may not be sleeping under a tree again or in my van -I don't have a vehicle anymore- but I am still homeless. Don't ever tell me that just because I have a corner to sleep in under a roof that I'm not homeless. I am. You'll never understand and you have no right to judge me or make any such conclusions unless you've been through everything I've been through. I AM THANKFUL FOR MY MATTRESS. I've said it before, and it remains true. I really am thankful. Yet fear is so powerful. Fear tells me I could be sleeping outside at any moment. Fear tells me it's happened before, it can happen again. Fear tells me that I should have known better than to trust someone and get comfortable in a home for 3 years, thinking I would never have to worry about being homeless again, and just like that, overnight... literally... I am.  YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT POST-TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER IS unless you have it. 

I have it. And I'm feeling the weight of it. Combine it with my bipolar disorder and the depression part coming on, and I'm turning into a very large ball of tangled string and I can't find the end of the string. Even if I could find it, I'm afraid if I began to pull it would only knot further.

"You have so much to be thankful for." I'm aware of my blessings, thank you. I do count them. But don't; please just don't say that to me. You don't know what I feel like inside. You don't know the frustration of feeling like you are running in place. Yes, I took my vacation with my kids, and I've already explained that it was mostly paid for before I became homeless again, and that it was an opportunity that I was not willing to pass up. Again, do not judge my decisions unless you fully understand the reasons behind them. If you were me, you would have gone, too. I can promise you that. My priorities are straight. Taking that vacation didn't chance a thing about my situation. It gave me a chance to breathe for a little bit and be with the ones I love the most in this world. It gave me a reason to smile and laugh for a little while. 

It made me feel like my life was normal again. I was a mom, with my children, doing stuff that families do. I put aside my worries for 10 days, and if people want to hate me for that, by all means.. HATE ME. But it won't change a single thing.

I am back. Back to working my butt off as of tonight. Starting from scratch. I don't think people realize that I've lost everything in my life, except that... my life. Even that's been close; unintentionally and intentionally. I can't help but think if I were walking one night and went to cross a busy intersection, and just kept walking, right into oncoming traffic, if anyone would notice. Would they see me step out? Would they brake? Would they just keep going? Would anyone be called? Would they even care? My struggle has been so long and the light seems so far, there are some nights, like tonight, where I do not feel like I have the strength to even care, myself. I have an ex-fiance who kicked me out of a house while I was laying in a hospital bed, because he "needs to prove to himself he can be alone" BUT "still loves me." [That's not love. My opinion.] I have 4 children, but only 2 of them talk to me. The other 2 pretend I don't exist. If you aren't a parent, you wouldn't understand that pain. If you are, you just might "get it." I have no home. I have no transportation. I have no family here, except for a sister that has her own life to deal with and struggles to face. I love her dearly and it isn't her fault we can't spend more time together.

What frustrates me the most right now is the people who made promises that they would help; they haven't. I don't feel entitled. Please don't get me wrong. As I have said, the world owes me nothing. However, promises mean something to me. If you tell me you are going to do something, you should either do it, or should have never said it to begin with. You don't understand what that does to people who suffer from the illnesses and struggles that I do. You don't realize it is enough to CRUSH me when that promise is broken. Whether it's something as simple as saying you will share my fundrazr website so more people can see a brief part of my story and decide whether they want to help or not, or whether it's something more complex or meeting a specific need. I have no expectations; unless you make me a promise. How is it wrong to expect someone to keep their promise(s) or their word? It isn't wrong. This world is just so stupid now that promises mean jack to most people and integrity has been all but lost.

I'm not only homeless. I'm sick. I'm tired. I have a lymph node that has needed a biopsy for longer than I care to mention now. I don't even know if it's related to possible returning cancer or if I just have some sort of autoimmune disease, or maybe an infection. I'm not sure I care anymore. THAT'S HOW TIRED I AM.

I'm so tired that I fall asleep in the middle of work, or during the day. I work from my laptop as a medical transcriptionist, and I get paid by production. Anyone with a mental health disorder can tell you how hard it is to concentrate. Anyone with depression can tell you how hard it is to care. Anyone with an autoimmune disorder or physical illness that deals with fatigue can tell you how hard it is to stay awake. Try combining all of it with the worry that you aren't going to make enough money because you get paid by how much you work to EVER be able to get transportation so you can help your 18-year-old daughter who was born legally blind and desperately wants to be with you more, or EVER be able to save enough just to have the deposits and first and last months rent and money to get started over again even though you know once you are finally in a place you will be able to support yourself, or EVER be able to go to the freaking doctor and get the medical care you need so you can stop feeling so tired and in pain, and just maybe feel like you have quality of life again. TRY STARTING OVER AGAIN AND SEE HOW HARD IT IS JUST TO START.

I hate asking for help. I'm not good at it. I never used to be good at sharing, either, but I stopped caring what others thought of me, so here I am.. sharing my heart out, even though the above probably has tons of horrible typos, grammatical errors, pitiful crappiness, and tiredness written in the stars.

You don't have to help me. You really don't. You can read this and just close your browser. And that's fine with me, because you never promised you'd share. The link to my fundrazr site is RIGHT HERE - JUST CLICK ME. If you do want to share it, awesome. I will be adding a video to it at some point tonight. I also won't be asking for help again. It's the last time I'll be posting the link, so no worries. I'm not going to turn into a beggar; but someone told me recently that I don't reach out enough. So, that's what I'm doing. I'm showing you my reality as of this very moment, and I'm reaching out. And I'm letting you know that despite my past mistakes, I did not ask for this in my life right now; I'm not homeless through fault of my own this time; I'm not asking to be supported for the rest of my life. I'm asking for help starting over. I have hope there are good souls still out there, who like to see people have another chance at life. I feel hopeless right now because I feel alone. The two don't go together, but at the same time they do. I'm a firm believer of paying it forward. That's exactly what I plan to do; because I know that the day will come when I'm in a position to do so. 

I'm at a standstill. A hump, if you will. This is my transparency. Pray for me. Send positive thoughts. Give a little, give a lot. Whatever it is, just do it from your heart. True love is all I ask for.

Signing off.... with hopeless hope.