Money is the Root of Everything

It really is, ya'll. 

Things aren't going so well right now. My life, school, my family...everything is really shitty and I feel like I'm watching all of it come to head behind a thick glass window and I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't know how to break that glass. I thought this summer...I thought all summers...was supposed to be a relaxing time full of vacations, lazy days, afternoon naps and endless bouts of watering my crops on Harvest Moon. So that when August came around I would be primped and ready for the next school year, ready to tackle all my fears and...

Nothing. 

I've never had a summer like that, not in a real long time. Summers for me have always been about death and change and watching my mother's face get more drawn as she resigned herself to signing away money we could have used for food so that she could pay a bill or satisfy a growing overdraft in her bank account. Summers for me have long stopped be fun and lazy and carefree...they're just a few months to prepare for more heartache when winter comes along...a grace period before the inevitable swallows us all whole. 

That's life, I know, and I'm preaching to the choir here with all my complaining but I just always thought...I always thought that when things got as bad as they are now that something would happen, you know? All the stories I use to read, about plucky kids down on their luck with magical dragons underneath their beds and fantasy realms in their closets...I always thought that would happen to me. That some deus ex machina factor would shine into my life and everything would be fine. We would all be saved. My mom use to always tell me, "It will get better, everything will be fine" but as I grew older I realized that it was just a band aid. A band aid on a wound that was growing more and more diseased and pus filled as the years wore on. It's at its boiling point now. It has festered and bubbled in the heat of all the chaos of our lives and it's about to burst. We're about to move into a cramped apartment with little space to do anything; I'm headed back to school with a huge bill I can't pay for; I think my relationship with my dad and stepmom is about to finally take that long awaited plunge it's been threatening to take...it's about to get a whole lot worse before it even gets average. 

I don't know what to do. I would like to be naive and Disney-optimistic and say that writing is what's going to fix everything, my writing, but who am I kidding? I'll never be able to make any money off this thing, I don't have the drive or talent to keep it going. I'm looking at coming back to school early, going to community college, and getting a dead end nine to five job somewhere that only pays the rent while I scrounge for saltines in the back of my pantry because I can't afford food. Things are going to get worse...I've long stopped wondering if better was even an options for us, for me. 

Not feeling too good about the future right now...if I even have one.