Gasping for air

Breathe. Every day I try to get through the day and breathe. And every day something comes along and attempts to choke the life out of me while I'm simply trying to breathe. I'm so sick of this house. I'm so sick of this life. I can't even begin to express the utter despair I feel almost every waking minute.

I'm not stupid, and I'm not lazy, so WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING HARD??? I need to go back to school to get a job....but school costs MONEY and we are poor as church mice. How ironic is it that because I'm 'not working', I technically have time to go back to school full-time...but because I'm not working I can't afford to go? And explain to me how I can have more credits than necessary to complete (at the very least) an Associates Degree, and most of my Bachelor's...but because my credit hours are from 3 different schools, I have NOTHING to show for it. Except student loan debt. Yeah, I have that to show for it. How many God Damned times do I have to take English Composition (3 times) or Accounting 101 & 102 (2 times each) before I can get a stupid piece of paper that tells the world that I'm NOT an uneducated moron.

Every week, usually on Tuesdays, I get the 'your account is overdrawn' texts from Chase, and my anxiety builds to a crescendo. Anti-depressants help, but I'm still sinking. Xanax is great, but it's only a brief vacation from the gripping reality that consumes me every day. Every day I struggle to make ends meet running two separate companies that have yet to compensate for my time. I'm so tired of struggling. I'm so tired of feeling helpless.

Tired of failing, tired of the judgement. Tired of bill collectors, tried of overdrawn accounts, tired of pretending I'm ok. Tired of being overwhelmed at the long list of tasks to accomplish each day. Tired of being a failure. Tired of applying for jobs to be turned down because I don't have my degree. Tired of feeling useless. I'm just tired.

I want the old me back. The happy-go-lucky spontaneous me. The person I was before life ran me over like a mac truck and left me to pick up the pieces. Sometimes I think she still might exist. Somewhere, deep inside. On days like today, I'm not so sure. I wonder if I will ever get to be that person again.