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.
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.