I miss Helena.
It’s ironic, but as Helena, I could be more honest than I feel comfortable being now.
Helena wouldn’t be afraid to cry, and tell you how tired she was. Helena wouldn’t hesitate to rage about her depression.
She wouldn’t be so scared to admit that she’s scared.
I’ve been living pretty low for a few months now — looking for work and not finding any.
I’ve been going to food banks, and if you know anything about Helena and her MSG issues, then you’ll know that if this were her talking, she’d tell you honestly how unhealthy she is, how sick she is, how every day she wakes up with a headache, and her bowels don’t work right and she’s hungry and tired all the time and how her anxiety is so bad that she spends most of her days literally sick in the stomach worrying where April’s rent/phone bill money is going to come from. She’d laugh and be self-deprecating, and say how she could probably stand to lose a little weight, but it doesn’t work like that. Eating shit food — even if you’re eating less — just makes you unhealthy, makes you gain weight, makes you tired and lethargic and miserable.
“Not that I’m miserable, darlings,” Helena would say with a sly smile, and then go on to tell you how much in love she is, and how wonderful it is to have finally found that person that is your mirror image, how amazing it is to be in love, and to be able to truly say that not a day has gone by since she met her other half that she has not been head over heels in joyful bliss.
Then she’d launch into a cheesy rendition of Sonny and Cher’s “I got you, babe” — especially the part about how love won’t pay the rent.
For a couple of months we were on social assistance, which barely covered our rent — which means in order to eat or buy gas, we literally had to take money from rent. Ergo, we still haven’t paid all of March’s rent and April is coming soon.
It would be a bit easier to be Helena right now, because Helena would tell you that it really sucks to be so poor that you’re embarrassed when friends come around because you have nothing to offer them. Or how it feels when you get together with friends who start talking about how we should all plan a trip together, knowing that whenever things start looking up — ie. when you start working — it’s going to take months to get caught up from being behind for several months.
Helena would feel okay telling you that this is the aftermath of cancer when you didn’t have that much to begin with, and now that you want to get on with your lives, there is so much to get caught up on.
Helena would cry in her non-alcoholic Greyhound — which is actually just water, so, it’s like a non-alcoholic greyhound hold the grapefruit juice. She’d tell you how tired she is; how pain and depression go hand in hand and that she just wants this all to end.
I got a temporary job for the month of March, so that means no social assistance (which is fine, except that I’m only making maybe $100 more than I would have on social assistance, and as I stated before, that barely covered our rent.)
Helena couldn’t tell you this, because they’re not hers, but I can tell you that I haven’t seen my two daughters since Christmas because I can’t afford the gas to go get them (don’t even ask why their mother won’t drive them to me).
My heart is breaking and depression and anxiety are making it very hard to stay motivated. I have lots of possibilities coming up, but I’m afraid of how bad it’s going to get before it gets any better.
I’m so sick and tired of being sick and tired.