I once heard someone say, "Poverty is free." At the time, I accepted that statement as true. Now that I am experiencing real poverty, I realize how untrue it is. Obviously the speaker has never lived in poverty.
Every day seems to charge me another toll on the road of survival. Others zip by, paying no tolls, and I wish to join them. I don't seem to have the correct equipment or the secret handshake.
My mother used to tell me, "You can spot a lady by the shoes she wears." I buy used shoes off of EBAY, and wear them until they fall apart. I have been carrying the same handbag for ten years. I have recently lost weight, over 100 pounds. My slacks look like clown pants. My shirts are all loose on me, but at least they don't look absurb. My hair is thinning and turning grey. I can't afford to color it or to have it cut and styled. I use 2$ shampoo and conditioner, which are not good for my hair. I use cheap body soap, which drys my skin. I can't afford face creame, which might stave off the effects of aging. I can't afford makeup or perfume. All of my decent clothing, my winter coat, my boots, and my jewelry were stolen from our storage unit.
The first big affect of poverty on my life has caused my appearance to deteriorate. I do the best I can but I look shabby, and I know that I look shabby.
The next affect began when I couldn't afford professional services, like dentistry. After I had surgery done on my spine, I developed a massive inflamation in my neck that extended into my jaws. It interupted the blood flow to my teeth and I lost all but seven of them. I can't put the money together to purchase dentures. The bones in my mouth are retreating. If I don't get dentures soon, the bone will be gone, and dentures will never work. Every time I save a few dollars, my son has a medical crisis, and my money ends up being used for him. Meanwhile, I have no teeth, and that is embarrassing for me.
Without teeth, I have a difficult time eating nutritious food. Because I have such a limited food budget, my choices are limited. I can't afford meat, or fresh fruit and vegetables. We eat scrambled eggs, fried potatoes with cheese melted over them, pinto bean soup and corn bread, beef stew ( using almost no meat), chili (made from left over bean soup), chicken and dressing (made using a few chicken wings), grilled cheese sandwiches, 1.29$ pizzas, and hot dogs. I am anemic much of the time, and often have other nutritional deficiencies. My Doctor tells me to try and eat more meat, fish, fresh fruit and vegetables. I smile and promise to try hard to do that. I can't speak the words, "I can't afford that food."
The second affect is on my health. I can't afford to do the things that might actually heal me. Instead, like an obedient automaton I buy my pills, and take them faithfully, as ordered. They make my life bearable, sometimes.
I live in a shabby, run down, filthy residence motel. I can't have any pets. I can't have a garden. We get a limited number of television stations. The people who live here are all living on the fringes of society. We learned, the hard way, that we can't let them in our room to visit, nor can we loan any of them anything. Many of them would knock you in the head for a dollar, then find some way to blame what they did to you, on you. No matter what happens, I can never call the police. The motel has a policy that anyone who is visited by the police, even if they are the victim, must immediatly move. Because it is a motel, we have no tenant rights here. We can be told to leave at any time, for any reason. They do not return any unused portion of rent you might have paid.
We do not own a car. We live on the bus line. I take the bus to my Doctor appointments. In cold wet weather, it is not fun. We shop at Aldi, which is down the road from where we live. It is difficult for me, but I can walk there and back home. They carry a limited number of products, but they are the cheapest place to shop. We never have much to spend, and Aldi allows me to stretch our food dollar.
The third affect of poverty in my life is that I never feel safe. I'm not even safe in my home. The second I open my door, I am a target. I have to be on my guard all of the time. It is exhausting. My stress level is constantly high. Since I can't have even a cat where I live, I can't lower my stress by petting an animal.
This leads to the forth affect of poverty on me. I have always walked through this world with my head held high. I could meet and interact with anyone, on their level. I have met three Presidents, and been to dinners at the White House.Today, the clerk running the register at Aldi, looks at me with pity. I have no social life. I couldn't dress for one, nor could I get there in my non-existant auto. I have been a widow for five years. I would love to find another life partner. I actually have a lot of love to offer some decent fellow. Who wants to date a 61 year old disabled, tootless, shabby, malnourished fat lady weaing clown pants and worn out shoes? I am embarrassed to BE me, no wonder nobody wants to DATE me.
Which leads to the fifth toll that I pay every day. I am lonley all the time. It is spirit crushing. A piece at a time, I feel me sliding away. Am I still really me, or have I become another person altogether? I am sad all the time, and depressed. If I continue on this path, will I give up and quit caring, like so many I have met? If I quit caring, won't it all feel easier? My spirit is dying. I hung on to it through an abusive childhood, how sad for me to loose it now, this way.
So many others are living this same reality, through no fault of their own. I, at least, made some unwise decisions, which put me where I am. I take full responsibility for my situation. I have never asked anybody for help, because I want so badly to be able to work my way out of this on my own. As long as my spirit survives, I have a chance to improve our circumstances. I have to believe that there is hope for me, and for all of us.