We all know by now how difficult 2020 has been for a lot of people. How this year really put a halt and shifted so many of our plans. I don’t share this hard stuff very often because I feel like there are already those whose struggles are heavier to carries than mine. Yet, I realized I must honor my own feelings and acknowledge what’s going on in my life.
For many, they may start 2020 with precise action plans before. Not me tho. Still deeply grief-stricken, I walked into 2020 with my heart felt like it’s been ripped apart.
My father’s sudden passing last year, precisely a year ago today, left me in grief so deep that it shattered my world. I didn’t know how to proceed. I don’t remember how I even survived those first few months. It just feels like wherever I go, there’s a dark cloud following me around.
The only thing I know how is to throw myself into the community work. When the lockdown begins, I was happy about it. I didn’t feel like meeting anyone anyway.
Then my projects started to get canceled, one after another. Understandably, with the pandemic in full-blown. Offline events must be canceled until God only knows when. We (my son and I) survived from what little savings I had. Until I ran out of money.
It’s such an embarrassing condition. I tried to find work online. Went to plenty of online interviews, held on to several that seemed promising until they just fizzled away. Friends helped me, and I cried silently after discovering how they came together and sent me pretty much a care package full of things that allowed us to survive for a few more weeks. They said I’ve supported so many people through my work, so I need to let my friends take care of me this time. I cried grateful tears. It’s not easy from being the ‘caretaker’ to a ‘receiver’.
Until I had to finally gave up. I had to pack our clothes and moved in with my brother and his family. After 4 years of living alone, just my boy and me, I had no other choice but to move back in. It’s not easy. If anything, shame hung to my shoulder like a dead weight. At the time, I still held on to the last job interview I had, which sounded very promising. I told my son, “As soon as I got my first salary from that new job, we can go home.” I failed to keep my promise, but I must’ve done something right raising such an understanding kid. He is good with our current living arrangements and never once complain about it. Thank you, son.
Until I was forced to accept the fact that the job may have been given to someone else. Until I had to message my landlord and tell her I won’t renew our contract this year. This means I had to move out.
Going from having your own space, your own little space, you can call home, to sleeping in your niece and nephew’s bunk bed…left me in a deep depression. I am embarrassed, ashamed, feeling like I’ve failed so miserably. Feeling defeated and emotionally drained.
At 41 years old, I’ve once again become a burden to my family. Please don’t get me wrong; I am forever grateful to have my brothers, mother, sister in law who accepts us and can support us in these difficult times. Time and time again, they rescued me. Still…it is difficult, painful even.
I don’t know how I will get through these dark times…I know life is always supporting me, but right now, I’m just exhausted.