Do I Really Want To Write This?
I ask myself that most days. I have for months. Since the thought bubbled out of my soul that I'm supposed to write about the financial hell I've been living in -- like God told me that's part of the purpose of it all. Since Mark begged me not to but finally relented because it's just the truth and he respects the writer in me.
Being a good provider is very, very important to Mark and he IS a good provider. But both the economy and my financial situation changed drastically soon after we got married. Nothing is the way we planned or what we expected it would be. Mark has had to shoulder the burden and try to come up with the difference. We say we're getting our starving newlywed years now. We hope that when it's all better we can focus on how we built ourselves from nothing.
In the midst of it all, he loves me enough to set his pride aside and let me be me. Which means let me write about things he'd prefer that no one knew about. Things that I'd prefer no one knew about except that they get processed through my writing.
I'm a "cards-on-the-table" kind of person. I always say I have no secrets and I'll tell you MORE than you want to know. Which is true. Until now. I've noticed myself withdrawing over the last year or two and I'm sure many others in similar situations do the same. I talk to almost no one anymore. I've let most of my friends drift away. It's partly out of shame and partly because I just can't stand listening to myself anymore. I have become a pathetic heap. I'm honest enough that, when someone asks me "How are you?", I tell them what's on my heart instead of just giving a rote "I'm fine". Because I'm not fine. Because the poison of money stress has taken over my life, my house, and my marriage, my heart, and my soul.
There are several ways I could focus this blog. I could put the Pollyanna lens on it and only tell you the good things and only show the hopeful moments. Or I could just completely out myself and make a sidebar listing all my outstanding bills. Or not. Or I could strive for a balance. Mostly I just want to try to be honest about the experience of what we're going through. Most of all, I want to write the happy ending. I want to document where we've been and how we got out of it -- something that future generations can refer to to know that this is a normal life experience. So I guess some uncomfortable honesty is required. I'll hope not to feel too naked!
In the end, hopefully, this blog will serve to let others of you who are struggling know you're not as alone as I think we all feel. Because I'm pretty sure that all of the rest of you are naked underneath your clothes too!