I want to say how sorry I am to my kids and my husband. Sorry I couldn't help keep us together. Sorry I couldn't help keep us stable. Sorry I couldn't make us a happy family with a stable home.
Perhaps it was too much to wish for a happy home, a nice life, and a steady income. perhaps it was my fault. I did promise what ever Deity that was listening that I wouldn't speak to anyone and I would keep our family to ourselves. Unfortunately, I made friends and my kids made friends. We apparently made enemies too.
I found out today that one of the women who works in the office for this complex actually got drunk at the complex Superbowl party and danced around singing, "Hooray! HHH has to move! Good riddance!" Yes, it seems we were well liked.
So, I am giving up. Please save all the peppy speeches about "you can do it", and "If you made it before you can make it again." and all. I have heard everything. The facts as they are now basically are...
1. We have to be out by Feb. 4th. No if's, and's, or but's or we will be REMOVED from the property by the police.
2. We have no money. HHH's brother was supposed to come and give us the last $200 he owed to us. He has not. See, he already got his tax refund. He spent it on Motorcycles, concert tickets, and other such fluff, but when it came time to help out his brother who helped him... we got the old Fuck You. Thanks, and if you are ever in Wauchula Florida and meet a guy named MICHAEL WETHERINGTON...... kick him in the nuts for me as hard as you can. Then kill him. I'm not kidding.
3. We have no where to stay. We were going to bunk up with Ms. M until someone told the office and that was when HHH learned that we had to be completely off the property. Let's all make sure the family with 3 kids, 2 of them special needs has to sleep in their truck. We appreciate it.....ALOT!
4. Until our taxes come in we have no way of paying for anything. HHH gets his final check Wednesday and that will be it. We are screwed. I can't even afford to rent out a ghetto crack house!
So you see, kind reader.... things are fucked up beyond all recognition. I am grateful for all your support, but good wishes will not give my kids a roof to sleep under. Kind words will not give me a fridge to keep their insulin in. I need either a room to bunk down in, or a 1000 bucks until my taxes come in. Unless either one of those things happens (which they WON'T!!!) we are sleeping in the truck. in a dark parking lot. ALONE. And I just can't do that again. I can't. I am done.
I am done.
I'm sorry to all of you who thought I was stronger. I'm not. I have been beaten down for the last 13 years now. Over and over.... again and again. Seeing happiness only to have it snatched away in a cruel jest. I love you all. But I am done.
I'll miss you.
I just can't be fabulous any more.