The burdens that no one else can help me with are getting too soul crushing. I can hire someone to do heavy lifting and such, but there are personal things that I alone have to deal with… like IRS taxes… and I just can’t get my brain wrapped around it.
Last year, my accountant retired, and I waited too long to find a new one. I settled on a guy after everyone else I’d called wasn’t taking new clients.
The guy I dealt with charged me so much money (and he creeped me out). I can’t afford his astronomical prices. He’s more than double other accountants, and this year, he’s already added yet another form and another charge (which is due by Jan. 31). I don’t even want to face him or hear his voice. Just thinking about it makes me feel sick to my stomach. For someone who doesn’t come out ahead at all, to pay that price is just highway robbery as far as I’m concerned – some business professional making a lot of money off someone who has little.
The pressure is getting to be too much. I’m at a loss at what to do. I’ve spent the last three days in off and on tears and today isn’t any better. I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning. I so totally understand why people choose to go homeless or commit suicide. Sometimes the weight of life’s complications gets too hard to bear.
This is one of the disadvantages of being alone. There’s no one to share the burden with. Everything falls on my shoulders. These past two years have had almost more heartache than joy. This past year alone, I’ve had paintings stolen, been scammed for a lot of money, had to put my beloved Pele-kitty down, and had my credit card compromised for over $1,000. Even the simple joy of feeding the birds has stopped because I can’t deal with the rodents.
Yes, I have a couple of good friends who offer support, for which I’m very thankful, but it’s still up to me to handle this all – alone. And yes, I choose to be alone, but sometimes…
And, I’ll admit, being older, my brain doesn’t handle stress well anymore. When people talk fast, my brain can take it all in. I easily get confused, frustrated, and angry especially when it comes to reading what I call crap and having to fill out forms. And, having to make phone calls and deal with all the automated messaging crap sends me over the edge and I turn into a screaming lunatic before I can get to a “real” person.
Right now, any joy I have in life has disappeared. I feel like a bottle cap (with all it’s sharp edges) floating in stormy seas that threaten to sink her. And the waters are getting rougher and there’s no land in sight. When does one give up fighting?
They say you have to make your own happiness, and for years, I was doing well with that. I’ve had good times, done good things, and gotten much enjoyment out of life, but these days, the bad overcomes any good. I had hoped 2023 would be a change for the better, but it’s not starting out that way.
I guess I was wrong in thinking, when I moved here, I was setting myself up to have an easier life and enjoy my final years (however many years that would be.) However, coasting I am not. It’s turned into a super hard, icy decline full of sharp rocks that cut me to the core. (And because of my choice to be alone, there’s no one to hold me in these times and tell me everything’s going to be alright.)
Many people handle things better than others. I’m not handling this well at all these days. It makes me wonder. Did Mum cry a lot? I think I only ever saw her in tears once or twice. If she did cry, she hid it from me. I wish I could ask her, talk to her about stuff. Funny, because I used to think we talked about most anything, but I realize now she kept a lot of secrets.
Me, I’ve never been able to hold back tears. I grew up being called cry-baby, too sensitive, and too emotional. I can’t help it. I FEEL things deeply and can’t hide it.
And I wonder if this is why many people turn to alcohol and drugs. They can’t deal with life’s issues. I could never go that route, though, because my body makes me sick if I have more than one drink and getting high isn’t enjoyable as the couple times I’ve tried, it just makes me feel icky. I’ve always said that’s my body’s way of or my higher power keeping me from going down that road. I’m glad I’ve never been tempted to go that route.
So, I plow on through the furrows of life dealing with mud and ice and snow. And, with all this, I don’t even have any motivation to go in the studio and paint.
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