Image copyright Bill Watterson
2008, I mean.
Oh, good.
. . .
I suppose I owe everyone an explanation.
. . .
2007 was, in many ways, the worst year i can remember. On a practical level, nothing’s really changed, but at least it’s over.
Around the time of my father’s death, my life fell apart. In the same week, I lost all my savings, my laptop quit working, and, of course, there was his death. Following, I might add, a years’-long catastrophic illness, during which I, four years ago, chucked my home, friends, career, lover, life, in order to move 2,000 miles across the country to live in my parents’ tiny house and help take care of him. I was at a crucial point in my career, but I gave it up. I was buying a house, but I gave it up. I was not well-off, but at least I had an income, but I gave it up. And I took an incredible amount of shit from one particular sibling - just how much I had no idea until after her death last year, when the lies all came out.
I spent months without a working computer. Not only no blogging, but no work. Not that it mattered, since my biggest institutional client jerked me around for four months waiting for my alleged contract and then ultimately skipped on me. No, there’s no legal recourse. It doesn’t matter; I wouldn’t work for that person now for all of Halliburton’s billions.
Mom’s health is worse. The stress of dealing with Dad; the aftermath of last year’s stroke; and the never-ending money worries (Dad’s death halved her Social Security). My own health has gotten so bad that I couldn’t work for someone else if I tried; there’s not a moment, waking or sleeping, that I’m not in pain. No, disability isn’t an option; ask anyone with autoimmune diseases who’s tried to fight that particular battle.
You know, I’ve been poor before. In fact, I’ve been poor most of my life, both as a child and as an adult. But I’ve never been so completely broke. Savings and checking? Both in deficits, literally. No matter how broke I’ve been, at least before I’ve had some source of income, however small. At least then it was simply a matter of constant juggling, always trying to decide which bill to pay this month and which to leave until next time.
Now, there’s nothing. And I’ve never been so terrified in my life. Every single day, every single minute. Because I have to worry about Mom, too. And it’s just me. I’m it.
In less than two years, we’ve had three deaths in the family, as well as that of a close family friend. We’ve had repeated illnesses, injuries, hospitalizations (my parents, not me). No, no one had insurance - no health insurance, no life insurance. We’re still paying for all the fallout from my sister’s death last year (which was really a years’-long suicide, given her diabetes and her drinking). No, no insurance, no will, no assets. Just a mountain of debt.
And those weren’t to be the only losses.
On September 30, we had to send one of the dogs (one of the BF’s dogs, to be exact) on her final journey. We found out, much too late, that due to certain parties’ negligence with regard to medical treatment, her poor body was riddled with tumors. On her last day, she had a stroke, and we no longer had a choice.
And I’ve had one more loss - one that still cuts too close to the bone for me to write about it.
I haven’t blogged because I couldn’t. There’ve been times when I’ve literally wanted to give up - completely. I’ve never felt like that before. But 2007 left me trapped. Absent winning the lottery (yeah, like I can afford a ticket anyway), there’s no way out.
So next time a politician - particularly a Rethug one, but any of the whores, frankly - starts talking about responsibility, and ownership societies, and how great the economy is, or any of that happy horseshit, remember that it’s all crap. Too many of us are one step away from losing everything. Some of us have already lost everything. I suppose the good news about that is that at this point, there’s nowhere else to go but up.
This will, I hope, be the only post like this you ever see here. And the only reason it’s here now is to explain my six-month absence from polite society.
The good news is that at least I have place to live. I can’t pay my bills, but at the moment, I don’t have to worry about housing or food.
The other good news is that it’s 2008. Completely arbitrary as far as choosing a date for a new year, but it’s what we’ve got, so I’ll take it. And beginning with the next post, you’ll see a shift in certain topics.
For now, apologies to any of you who’ve been stuck reading this. This is my farewell to 2007, and its entire toxic atmosphere. I’m done.
No looking back.

Lilith, I am so glad to hear from you! It is good to know that you are on the planet.
Many, many of us are bobbing and spinning in very similar boats. I too gave up my life six months ago to care for my dad after his stroke. Yes, I quit blogging— not that I was ever very prolific. My personal finances are worrisome, if not yet desperate. In suburban LA I have no support structure of friends: I am a stranger in a strange land.
Still, although I occasionally want to shriek at them, I am greatly blessed in my siblings and extended family who have all pitched in. We lost a lot as a species when we drifted away from tribal relationships. So, even though I am too far away to be any help to you at all, big electronic hugs!!
Lisa, groping in the dark for radical hope
Comment by Lisa — January 01, GMT @ 13:107 PM
Oh, Lisa, how great to hear from you! And Happy New Year! Although it sounds as though, for you as for me, it’s a little less happy than we would have liked.
So how is your father now? I hope he’s doing well; I know well the damage a stroke can do, and I know how incredibly tough it is on the caregiver, too. You’re right, we have lost a lot bu “drift[ing] away from tribal relationships.” I find myself unseemingly envious of those folks I know whose families have managed to preserve that structure.
Actually, though, just knowing you’re still out there helps. So you’re in suburban LA now - where’s home? If you ever get two states east (or I get two states west), we’ll have to get together.
Oddly, I was just staring out the window at the western sky. Sunsets up here are nothing short of amazing. My ancient little digital camera doesn’t do it justice, but take a look at the photo in the next post - maybe it’ll send some healing vibes your way.
Thanks, Lisa. I can’t tell you how good it was to read your comment.
Comment by Administrator — January 02, GMT @ 18:215 PM
Lilith! You’re back!
I hadn’t stopped by for a while, and didn’t know you had resumed blogging. Well, what a crappy year you had, and it sounds like some of it is still stuck to your shoes. Three deaths in the family… Stella suffered exactly that, three deaths in the family last year, including her younger sister, so it’s been an awful year for all of us. Money problems of course always make all the other problems worse. I’m relieved to hear you have a place to live… I remember the closest I ever came to being homeless, and it scared the fuck out of me.
Well, I’m rambling. But I’m very glad to know you’re still alive and out there, however tenuous your circumstances. With luck, and with help from your friends (email me if you need my help, and I mean that), you’ll get past the worst of all that. Just keep on keeping on, and keep us informed. (I’ll write about my wonderful world [heh] another time.)
Comment by Steve Bates — January 13, GMT @ 20:1350 PM
Steve!!! Happy New Year!
God, it’s good to hear from you. I’m so sorry to hear about Stella’s losses; please relay my condolences to her. And a younger sister . . . jeez. I’ve now lost both of my sisters, both older, although both too young to die (one would have thought), but somehow there seems to be something almost more painful when it’s someone younger than you are. I guess because it upends the natural order of things . . . inverts everything expectable, so to speak? I dunno. It’s just hard.
Yeah, the last year has scared the fuck out of me, too. I don’t remember ever being so consistently terrified in my life. The only way I’ve been able to cope is by tuning it out - just simply refusing to think about it. Which, I’m sure, is simply making some aspects of my situation worse, but at some point, I have to be able to get through the day and survive. And fortunately, my “place to live” has the added advantage of being a near-complete haven, where I can go to ground and sort of hide out from all the insanity out there.
Thank you for the very kind offer, although I hope never to have to take you up on it. The reverse holds true, as well: If you ever need anything and there’s anything I can do, you know where to come. And, of course, if you and Stella are ever in northern New Mexico, you have to visit. (Of course, once you see this place, you might not want to go home again . . . .)
Thanks, Steve.
Comment by Administrator — January 15, GMT @ 07:1516 AM