This site exists because I.Have.Had.Enough.

My name is Emma. I’m 26 (almost 27). I’m a mother of two small boys. My husband is sick, and can’t work. I am in school, and I work, but part-time. (Really, it’s more like quarter time. 10 hours a week.) We have 50 fathoms worth of debt pressing on our chests and threatening to make us implode. We accrued that debt while we were figuring out what the heck to do with the massive basket of lemons we’d been handed. (I can honestly say I will never drink lemonade again, for as long as I live.)

We survive because the government exists, and our local government takes care of its own. And don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful that we have a roof over our heads, and food in our stomachs. I’m not complaining when I enter my house and it’s nice and cool in the summer, or toasty in the winter. I’m not sad about that. I know that there are many things in my life for which I should be, and that I am, grateful.

Mental illness is the thing that rules in our house. My husband has clinical depression, along with bipolar2 disorder. And then there’s me. I’ve had anxiety my whole life. I’m pretty good at dealing with it, but it gets to me sometimes. And depression, I have that too. Alllll the time.

But I also have a (possibly unhealthy) inability to let go of hope. Hope for a brighter day. Hope for a different way of doing things. I also have an uncommon determination to break free of the soul-crushing governmental dependence. I don’t want to live paycheck to paycheck.

I want out.

And I’mma get out.

Like I said, I’m going to school. I have two years left, and then I will have a degree in horticulture and I will be able to find fulfilling employment. I am going to get that degree so hard. I am going to crush it. I’m going to become a plant aficionado and I’m going to kick some serious rear at it.

Also, I write.

I write because…I need it. I write because I can’t help myself. I have notebooks, and journals, and planners, and flip pads, and scratch pieces of paper in every nook and cranny of my home, so that when something comes into my head, I have the ability to capture it immediately. This website is a place where I will place my thoughts. It is a place where I will work to organize my writing. Where I’ll vent all my words and process my verbiage, and maybe get some good feed back. Maybe someone out there will see what I’ve written, and tell me how I can be better. Maybe we’ll be friends…

But I digress.

So, here’s what I’m gonna do.

Are you ready?

I’m going to write.

And go to school. And be a mother. And be a caretaker. And work as an office cleaner. And organize myself. And do massive amounts of brainy homework. And serve my fellow men. And strive, push, pull, bend, break – do whatever it takes (within the bounds of my moral, ethical, and legal allowances) to GET. OUT.

Ya’ll. Poverty sucks.

I’m so done.

Here’s to the next two years. See you at the end of 2018.