the real world

For the last 20 minutes i have been reading about disability assistance. The internet is full of opinions, and also some well researched articles. Mostly what i think about is, my fall from middle class to poverty level. Or was i even middle class? I don't really know much about my father's monetary situation. That was never a discussion.

I know more about where my parent's came from, than where they inhabited as i was growing up. My mother was the 7th of 9 children. My poppop worked for Lockheed and Martin and my nana was a housewife. While most of the siblings in that family either went into nursing, went to college, joined the military, or married to become housewives. My mother went to college, probably on a scholarship. She was real smart (Still is). She went into Physics, which got her jobs like Radiation Safety Officer, and training to become a Radiation Oncologist (which are the people who shoot radiation into your body to try and kill cancer.) We moved every two years to a different town and my mom suffered from depression. Single mom with two kids.

My father still lived in the house that him and my mother bought together. He worked at Home & lands publication and then for himself as a software engineer, and then for himself again doing the same stuff. And probably for himself again. I wouldn't know, I haven't talked to him in 15 years. All i know is that he was born in Boston and grew up in south florida. That my grandmother was a piano teacher and my grandfather was a machinist for IBM. From pictures, they seem to be middle class. And my father being the 1st of 3 boys, went to college for Physics.No one went into the military, or nursing, and the 3rd son wanted to become a musician and pretty much just relied on his family for support. I think those are good indications of comfortable middle class.

Sometimes when i think about my childhood, i don't know if the hunger was from lack or from depression.
What i do know is that i went to college for two semesters on scholarship, but i couldn't hack it with depression and no fiscal or emotional support from my family. I failed at it. I went on to hitchhike around the country, live in cheap punk houses and eek out a living by working as a seamstress or a stagehand. I'd be leaving out a large part of the story if I didn't say that in my second semester i was in a pretty bad car accident that left me in a wheelchair for a while and with a disability that has reoccurred 2 more times. Leaving me pretty disabled, and only able to work certain jobs that did not rely on standing, ie. no service industry. The last time it happened, my mom had been paying for insurance for me and i was able to go to physical therapy and have since had no recurrences or pain. GO MOM!!!! But it shaped what my life looked like for 8 years.

I work 3 days a week at a used bookstore in new orleans, I make 11 an hour. Well above the minimum wage. The other 2 days a week i try to sew and make things to sell. I generally make just under a thousand a month. I live in a reduced rent government subsidized place. I pay 500 a month. Half of my income. I spend 100 a month on my car because i sometimes have issues with mobility ( a different car accident) and cant get rid of it. Plus public transportation in most places but the northeast really stinks. About 100 of that goes to groceries, and i do not eat a lot. I get 100 month in foodstamps from the government and i make everything from scratch and pack my lunch. 100 dollars a month usually goes to things like, vitamins and shampoo and necessaries. The other 100 i try to save because my truck is from 1984 and breaks down all the time and i have to fix it. Right now it needs a new starter and i will get under the hood of my truck and replace it myself because i wouldn't be able to afford it if i had to pay a mechanic.The other little bit of money goes to buying fabric so i can keep sewing. Once a year i score a movie job, and that assuages my fears for about 4 months. In those 4 months i can afford to buy some new clothes and some music, and go see my friends bands and not stress out about the 5 dollar cover.

It seems desperate. Under 1200 a month is poverty level. And i feel it. I am hungry a lot. I get really nervous about rent and doing things in my life that give me joy and hope. 

The other main point of this is, i don't know how to get out of it. I would like to do more movies and never worry about money, but that is hard to do as it is seasonal and relational. Being new to it means i don't know that many people and i am also bad at keeping in touch. And what I really want to do? I want to have a partner and a community and feel safe and supported and be outside and work hard and build and make things with my hands.

My fall into poverty means that i will never really be able to scrape that much money together to buy a house or land. My mother will leave me no inheritance. And my father has told my sister i am written out of the will. What does one do when things seem so bleak? That life is a repetitive grind that never seems to lead anywhere. How do i get out of it except in death? I see myself old and still working forever a wage slave if another car hasn't finally come to kill me.