There won't be much of a Christmas for us this year. Santa Claus will pass us by and leave us nothing again. I hate to share that this isn't the first Christmas where we won't have any presents under our little fake ghetto Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. We can't even get a lump of coal for being naughty. We just don't come up on that man's radar, or humanity's radar for that matter.
I'm sure by now, the shop that had my Betty has sold her out from underneath me because I just couldn't come up with the cash to pay for the repairs she needed. I've spent the whole year unable to find work. I'll work for H & R block for this up coming tax season, but that begins in January, after Christmas. And after April 15th, I'm back to being unemployed. Although, I'm trying to be hopeful that I will have found a new full time job by then. One with some benefits would be nice. I haven't been to the dentist in nearly ten years now. I have a broken molar that could use some attention. Thank goodness it doesn't hurt.
What does hurt is not being able to give my children a Christmas with presents. Yes, I see it as a gift and a miracle that we still have a roof over our heads and aren't homeless. And thanks to foodstamps, we'll have a decent Christmas meal at least. But it's hard for my children to grasp the gravity of the situation. They know there's no Santa Claus, that Mom is the one responsible for making sure there are presents underneath the tree. But they really don't get why Mom is failing to live up to her responsiblities. And since their fathers have never been active participants in their lives, they know not to even expect a Christmas card from them. My mother will come through on a few gifts for them. But she's elderly and disabled, so it won't be the things they're wishing for.
As for me, all I want for Christmas is to be gainfully employed, to know every month that the bills will be paid and how I'm going to pay them. To be able to afford a decent vehicle so I can take myself to the grocery store and not have to bother anyone else for a ride. To be able to afford the American Dream of my own home for my family, where I could make sure they are all safe and warm forever.
I've tried writing Dr. Phil. I've tried writing Oprah. I've even written President Obama twice, but nobody seems to care. Even those that have plenty, are afraid to share. I don't get it. I've never been rich. But if I have a way to help someone out, I do. I guess my story isn't interesting enough. No one cares about a little interacial woman and her two interacial children, a son who is ADHD with Torrets Syndrome and Schisophrenia, and a daughter with Asberger's Syndrome, a form of Autism. As they get older their needs become greater and I fail them daily.
I know I have no one to blame, but myself. I had no business having my son at fifteen. I did stay in school and earn my high school diploma. I did go to college and earn a Bachelor of Science in Education, but I've not obtained the right education or something. I continue to be a unique individual which just seems to rub many people the wrong way. I'm horrible at making and keeping friends because I don't like to let anyone get to close. Because it seems like when I let people get close, I always get burned.
So Santa Claus and the spirit of Christmas and the charity that goes with it will pass us by again. As usual, there won't be anything under our tree. I keep wondering why God keeps me around when I can't seem to get anything right. And I don't have the balls to do the world a favor and stop myself from sucking the oxygen away from everyone else. I don't mean to be a drain on society, but it seems that I am. And I just don't know how to make things better. Nothing I've been trying works.
