Being so completely poor right now makes me think of my parents. Every time we go through a hard financial time I always think of them. I hate that they have always lived this way. I hate that I didn't fully understand it when I was younger.
Recently a thought crossed my mind that I should not let Tristan know just how bad it is sometimes. But then I realized that I shouldn't just let him think that everything is always fine and that people never have to worry about money.
When I was in the ninth grade and didn't give a shit about my alcoholic mom and my solitary dad, I stole some money from my dad. My boyfriend had asked me for some money and I didn't question it. I reached into my dads coat pocket to see if I could find any money. I pulled out a wad of about eight hundred dollars. Not for a second did it occur to me to think about why my dad had that much or what it was for. I think I took half of it. My parents never said a word to me about it.
Every once in a while I think about this and it makes me sick to my stomach. Sick that I was naive and dated someone like that. Sick that I not only stole money from my parents but that I took so much of it. Sick that I got away with it. Sick that I now understand how poor my parents were and to this day I have not paid them back for it.
I just want to get out of this hole so I can breathe again.