Another stage perhaps in the unemployment line of emotional death and rebirth?
Anger, and blame. Even this coach went there. I wanted to blame the government, my husband, myself, my kids, the horses, the farm, my relatives, the newspapers, the weather, the floods, the rain, the leaking roof, the basements that couldn’t hold the water back, my clients. If I thought of them or it, I was ready to make it responsible for my situation. More of the poor poor me syndrome.
I mean really how can this happen in America? How can it be that no one is responsible for anything any more? It seems like what I imagine a third world country to be like. Here I am in America, the greatest nation in the world, and I can not afford dental work or to see a doctor. I can not afford to have shelter or even food!!!
I am able to keep some potatoes on hand…somewhere I was told a story about a time in Germany where they kept a pot of soup on the stove it was started with a potato and some water, and whenever any family member secured perhaps a carrot or an onion, they would add it to the soup, and the grandmother would add water daily, and everyone would eat soup. It kept them alive, and they survived because of the soup that was not much more than warm water on most days.
The thought of survival by the soup becomes less hopeful when one envisions homelessness. If I were in a field, or in the woods somewhere that I could keep a fire burning, there is hope, yet I have a difficult time figuring it out if I were homeless in a large city.
I think of being in a city so that I might still be able to secure a job, yet eventually the hope of that would fall, since I would not be able to bath regularly. So country living where the possibility for hunting some food would exist, seems much more livable to me. It also seems much more hopeless as a means of ever returning to a home and a job.
Maybe I will toss a coin and see what comes up. …
