Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….

TAKE ME OUT

14 Comments

wolf

Well.

I did it.

I rang my mortgage lenders, hung my head, and rolled over, then closed my eyes, waiting to be torn to shreds.

Or that’s how it feels at any rate.

And although it was what I was advised to do, and in theory the most sensible course of action, I know in my heart that I have sacrificed my last shred of dignity.

Lost job?  Check.

Claiming benefits?  Check.

Bad credit rating?  Imminent.

The thing is that I rang them in good time so that this wouldn’t happen.

But I am such a naive fool.

Because even though I have no bad debts and have not defaulted on any outstanding payments (yet), now that I’ve alerted them to the fact that I may not be solvent for much longer, they are now on red alert.

It also doesn’t help that I have my mortgage, bank accounts and credit card all with the same people, so I’m guessing that using my plastic is going to be touch and go from now on, and that any overdrafts and/or loans will be totally out of the question.

Not that I need or want debt.

It’s just like having that ‘You can stay with us if you’re desperate’ offer which, as I’ve previously mentioned, has not being reiterated of late.  There is no way I want to stay in anyone else’s home, nor accrue debt if I can possibly avoid it.

it would just be nice to know that these things are in place should the worst come to the worst.

Just in case.

But now the final nail is in the coffin of the person I used to be, the person I thought I was at any rate.

You see, whilst I don’t think i have much to be proud of in my life, one of the few things I have prided myself in over the years is that I have been quite sensible with money.  Apart from the occasional splurge (which tended to be on food/wine as opposed to designer clothing), I paid all bills well in advance of the deadlines, paid my credit card off in full every month, and did everything I could to ensure that I would never end up on the street.

A tough working class upbringing by one parent who lived in the pub/bookies and another who scrimped and saved and who feared this above all else tends to rub off on a kid, and I was determined that her fear would not be my fear, let alone my fate.

Funny how things turn out, hey?

You think you know yourself, or one knows oneself, don’t you, until things gradually fall away.

Your job, your business, your ethics, your social life, your dignity, your pride.

Maybe this is what is meant to happen to me.  Maybe I’m being tested.

On the plus side, there isn’t much else I can lose right now.

Apart from my life.

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And right now, I just wouldn’t give a shit.  In fact in some twisted way, I’d love it because I’d be able to just give in, for real, rent out this shit hole, guilt one of my friends into taking in my boys (with visiting/sofa rights of course cos dying would make me shameless), get the old credit card and just party until all my credit has gone and/or the geezer in the black coat arrives with his big knife thing and drags me off to wherever.  Maybe the place where the other sucker with the white robes should have dropped me off in the first place.

Whatcha say big boy?  We got ourselves a date?  Because dragging me ain’t gonna be necessary.

You don’t even have to wait till Halloween, I don’t want to come on too strong but any night works for me.  Hell, you don’t even have to buy me dinner.  I doubt you’d eat much anyway.

Because, for the record, you don’t scare me, you boney bastard, so quit all that grimacing and whoo-ing and get your skinny arse over here and take me out.

Before the next thing happens.   Because I have a horrible feeling that I haven’t even reached bottom yet.

Incidentally someone is so going to get it in the neck for all this one day.  Because my memory, patience and appetite for revenge probably even outstrips yours.

In the meantime, God please help me endure this life and that which is yet to come.

It’s the fucking least that you owe me.

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14 thoughts on “TAKE ME OUT

  1. I wonder what you need from us …?
    I suspect nothing: that you’re merely shaking your fists at heaven.
    Were we in a position to help, I don’t think we could; but we aren’t, anyway.
    We can only listen.

  2. I’ve been in my own version of where you are, and know to depths of my soul that it totally sucks. Having to grovel made me feel like the lowliest muckworm, with my pride squelched under other people’s boots. I also know you’ll certainly want to kill me when I say that it taught me a helluva lot about myself, my capacity for endurance, and what was ultimately important. So don’t give up. You WILL get there, and in the meantime, you’ll have have shed all sorts of habits and preconceptions that have weighed you down for years!

  3. Just remember, when you’re sat on the floor, you can’t fall off!

  4. Pingback: EAR WORM No. 23 – The Smiths – THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT #SUICIDE | Phoenix Fights

  5. I wish I were witty and could come up with a cheery bit of encouragement, but unfortunately I don’t have any wittiness today. I don’t necessarily like it when other people tell me how I’ll make it through to the other side. I have. I learned. But, I often end up back there again. So, I’m going to encourage you with all the annoying things I hear when I am in the pit. *Things will turn around* *You’ll be fine* *This will pass* and my favorites–coming from my husband *what’s your problem* *what happened* *did someone say something to you* What goes through my mind? With a lot of effort to believe it, I will find a way through whatever is bringing me down, even if I have no clue why I’m down. We just have to keep fighting, one second at a time. Oh, and when that bony bastard has taken you, send him my way.

  6. (scratches out everything she was going to write) I’m sorry Sista. Sometimes, and often for long times, breathing in and out just sucks. No rhyme or reason. Just does.
    ~SE

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