My hubby lost his job six months ago. There have been a couple of contracts he has gotten but nothing solid. He currently has two contracted jobs that he is doing right now. One is only giving him about 5 to 10 hours a week and the other one ends in a couple of weeks. The unemployment is gone. When this contract ends, I don't know what we are going to do. We aren't making ends meet as it is.
We can't afford the condo anymore; the payments are too high. I want to put it on the market. I know that it can take up to a year or more in order to get it to sell but at least I would feel like we were doing something. The hubby doesn't want to sell it; he says that it doesn't feel right. We also have some damage in one of the bathrooms that needs to be repaired before we could sell, and we don't have the money to fix that either. My home no longer brings me comfort and peace when I walk in the door; it just reminds me of all the things that aren't right in my life right now.
Going along with the financial situation, we have had to borrow some money from my in-laws to help pay the bills. This in and of itself causes more problems than good for all the obvious reasons. I hated the idea before we borrowed and I still hate the idea. To make matters worse, I just found out that they borrowed the money against their house in order to lend it to us. I want to throw up just thinking about it. I can't stand the fact that I am living on borrowed money from someone that didn't have the money to give it in the first place. It makes me feel dirty.
At work, there used to be two of us doing the same job. It was nice because when one of us started to get too busy the other would step in and help out. The other girl had a baby a few months ago and they gave her the option of working part time when she came back from maternity leave. I don't begrudge her the opportunity that she has to stay home with her baby. But, the increase it has placed on my workload is getting harder and harder for me to handle. She doesn't see it either. She comes in and acts like it isn't a big deal. In addition, she has picked up the attitude that she is the only one who works. She acts like all I do is sit around while she slaves away. I used to love my job...I don't anymore.
I mentioned in my last post that my hubby was diagnosed with diabetes and that he has a diabetic ulcer on the bottom of his foot. I am the sole person responsible for changing the bandages twice a day and making sure that it remains clean and continues to heal. As of right now, it is doing great. But, I can't help but worry about what happens if I do something wrong. If it stops healing or gets infected again then it is my fault. It is my responsibility.
My house work has gotten completely out of control. My hubby has always helped me out a ton. He took care of the dishes and helped out with the clutter control. He used to do laundry for me when I needed him to and he was the one that cooked dinner almost every night. With his foot issue, he has been put out of commission. He isn't allowed to put weight on his foot which means everything that he used to help me with is now back on my shoulders. The dishes are stacking up and the laundry is severely behind. Something smells in the kitchen. There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to take care of everything...yet it is my responsibility.
I am also trying to finally finish up my degree. I was supposed to graduate in May with my Bachelors degree. I was able to take a class off because of my hubby's illness but I had to go back tonight. If I didn't go back then I would have to pay back my student loans for the semester because I wouldn't have had enough completed credit hours to qualify for the loan. All my break succeeded in doing was bumping me from a spring graduation to a fall one. At this rate I don't know if I am going to make it graduation. I can't concentrate on my classes with everything else going on.
Then there is the whole IF thing. This stress has been a constant companion for years. I know that I should be grateful to not have a child while I am going through all of this other stuff; but I can't seem to find it in my heart to be grateful. I have wanted a child to hold in my arms for so long that my arms ache with the emptiness. No matter how hard I try to remain positive, I can't help the tears from falling sometimes. I can't make the pain go away.
With everything that I am trying to deal with all at the same time, I find myself more and more tired every day. I could probably sleep for 24 hours straight and still wake up exhausted. More and more often I find myself staring at a blank wall because my brain just can't handle anything else. I have thought about going to the doctor and seeing if there is something that they can give me just to help me cope while all of this stuff sorts itself out. I know that it will all sort out and that everything will be okay...but trying to get there is the hard part. Sometimes I think that if I just had a little bit of help I can make it. This is where my greatest fear of all comes in to play though. We looked into adoption a while back and one of the questions that keeps floating before my eyes is "do you have any history of mental illness?" I am petrified that if I can't cope with all of this stress on my own, that they will deam me as mentally ill, and that I will loose all chance of ever being able to adopt. If I can't adopt, then I will probably never be a mother. And if I can't ever be a mother.........I just can't take that chance....I can't seal my fate like that.