People die of broken hearts all the time

That's the conclusion I've come to today. I'm not sure what route got me to that conclusion, but perhaps it is analagous to mathematical solutions that are path independent. You get to the same place, but it doesn't really matter how you got there.

Maury is still here, but he's still very unhappy and angry with my son. My son did say some things that were very hurtful, and he tried to apologize soon afterward, but Maury wouldn't hear any of it. I should be cranking out five more articles on goji berry juice or some such nonsense right now, but I'm just wrecked after the past few weeks.

My daughter called me this morning before school. Her dad had, as usual, left for work around 6:30, even though he doesn't have to be there until 7:30. And then tonight, he went straight to rehearsal for whatever damn show he's doing now, so unless she's gone over to her grandmother's house - which I strongly urged her to do - she will have to continue waking up alone in the house and going to bed alone in the house. And my ex is astounded that she chooses to be with boys who are callous and abusive. She has no clue that any other kind even exist.

I went to the DHS this afternoon so I could apply for a food stamp card. I'm easily poor enough to qualify, but the bummer is, I may be so poor that I have to try to find a better paying job before they'll qualify me. Which means I might have to give up writing, which I would hate. I mean, despite the long hours, I really love what I do, and I think it is the perfect job for me.

The lady at the DHS had a kind of bassett hound look, kind but jaded. No doubt she sees desperate people all day every day. She couldn't understand what it is that I do when I told her I was a freelance copy writer. She somehow thought I was saying copyrighter, as in, a job bestowing copyrights or something. Eventually, she understood, but she was also put off by my pay records, which are printouts of payments received at Paypal, but I finally was able to explain it to her satisfaction.

At this point, as much as I could use the extra $190 a month for food, I'm ready to just call the whole thing off. I felt like I wasn't really a human, being there and asking for help that I honestly do need. I had to list two people she could call to confirm my situation. I put my former boss down as one of them. Much as I complain about him, he knows my situation well and is squarely on my side.

The other name I put down was my ex husband. I mean, he's a big part of the reason I'm in this situation: the legal fees from fighting him, the lowball settlement I agreed to just to get him to stop harassing me (I now realize I could have had him charged with harassment in criminal court, but I had no idea two years ago.), the fact that every single month he thinks up something that I "owe" him for that he deducts from my property settlement.

I want him to have to tell the DHS that yes, his ex-wife is poor enough to qualify for food stamps even though she has a job she loves and a good education. I want him to have to say it out loud and acknowledge it for himself.

I was watching Intervention tonight, and it was about this young man close to my son's age who wouldn't take care of his type I diabetes. Everyone knew that he would die if he kept ignoring it. He'd been hospitalized several times, but he just didn't feel like he had enough worth living for to make it worth his time to care for himself.

And it was so very painfully clear that this young man was dying because he hated himself and because of that he couldn't let others love him. I don't know, I mean, in his case it was diabetes, and in some cases it's drug abuse, and in some cases it's alcohol abuse. But I honestly believe that broken hearts are at the very root of this kind of self destructive behavior.

I wish there were a human version of the Island of Misfit Toys from Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer. Where everyone there would know what it was like to be rejected, to be judged, to be abused, to be dismissed, to be told they were worthless. Maybe if we could all take care of each other, fewer people would have to die from broken hearts.