The Facade of Being Broke

Struggling financially has no face. It has no limitations to what you look like. Being broke affects anyone and can affect everyone, not just people living in a mobile home or underneath a box. It affects people who don't have the means to make a good living; a living that is acceptable in today's society. A living where putting food on the table is a struggle.

For us, the vision is limitless.

It's a facade we carry everyday and will continue to grace our existence with this facade as if it isn't happening to us; but it is. Unfortunately, it is. 

Today I realized that we were down to one roll of toilet paper—one roll for 3 bathrooms; one roll that we all had to share. Why? Because we couldn't afford to buy more. As I look around our home, I realize we don't live in a bad place, quite the contrary, it's a nice place. Not a home prototypical of people who are "broke" but a nice comfortable home instead. Nothing fancy and nothing ostentatious, just nice—opulent. As I gaze at our furnishings, I sometimes think what a lie we're living; what a simulation this is, as if it's no longer real. I'm living in a dream—or is it a nightmare instead?

It's a lie because when people come and visit our home, they would never realize our circumstances, it would appear as though we're doing OK. But are we? They wouldn't know how we've had to scrape up leftovers and odd food here and there to create an unusual dinner, just so we can eat for the night. For example, by gathering odds and ends from our cupboards, last night I made nachos with eggs, mozzarella cheese, rice while incorporating the hot sauce packets from Taco Bell. It was surprisingly delicious, but it gets tough trying to create different meals every night so we can eat dinner. Tonight, I made breakfast burritos. We had plenty of tortillas and eggs, so it ended up being a hearty meal. It has become an imaginative challenge.

We were lucky. This time. How long can scraping up leftovers last until we can afford to go to the grocery store and buy food?

What will we do tomorrow night? Or the next night? And what about the toilet paper problem? What to do then. It seems that we're always having to 'cross that bridge when we get to it', otherwise I think we'd go insane trying to worry and figure out how things are going to turn out. We've just seemed to go with the flow of things hoping for the best, but were we expecting the worst? I know I was, but my husband? He's different from me. He's always had an optimistic view on things, and of course, I'm the opposite. I know for the most part, we complement each other, but now? When will it finally work out for us; when will our lives be filled with zero worry and plentiful groceries permeating throughout our refrigerator and cupboard? Whether or not I dream and fantasize about traveling and seeing the world, the reality of it is, I just want food. I just want to visit the grocery store without that butterfly ache wondering if our debit card will be approved.

I ask this question every single day. We're not asking for much. Just food and toilet paper.

I frequently gaze up into the sky as I stare up into the clouds hoping and wishing for a better life. There are days where I feel guilty of this wish, that perhaps I should be grateful for the family and life that I already have, and how some people don't have half of that. I am lucky for that, I do know this, but it's tough regardless. It doesn't make our circumstances easier. Two people with college degrees are living a life of poverty. Living the life of being unable to buy a substantial amount of toilet paper so we don't run out. Or being able to purchase more when we do run out.

Living the life of a facade.

I am continuing to look for a job to hopefully enhance our future; build up something that is so dear to me—my family. For now, it'll be tough and I know it'll be a challenge, but it's all we have at the moment so this choice is not ours.

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