Before being my grandmothers caregiver I didn't have a decent job. I could not afford college, so finding employment was hard in a declining area where I lived. When the market was saturated with others laid off that had more experience or education, minimum wage jobs were fought over. That sounds like an excuse. Maybe it was. After being laid off from a job that I could only get part time minimum wage, I did the math. I was making more money doing odd jobs here and there and selling stuff on eBay. So I stuck to it. I finally saved enough to get a cheap apartment and go to a trade school. Then grandma fell.
Now it's been years. The thousands of dollars I painstakingly saved are gone. I have nothing. No income, no marketable job experience, education, 63 dollars in the bank and a chronic back/spinal issue that has gotten worse after having to transfer grandma.
I've burned out twice. Once 2 or 3 years ago. Time blurs. Last Christmas l burned out again. But it was a different type. More like depression. It still hasn't ended. I stay awake at night usually getting about 2 hours sleep. All I do is worry where do I go and what do I do after. I just Google and Google and read jobs I'm not qualified for. I can't even sell stuff on eBay anymore. It's too hard to find someone to sit and watch grandma to even run to the post office. And now that her dementia worsened, I'm to emotionally stressed to do it even if I could. So now I'm broke and been broke since Christmas. The money I saved for my future was spent on groceries and depends. All the Christmas money people gave me (because they saw me struggling) went to pay the overdrawn bank account.
Sometimes I wish this would end. Then I hate myself for that. Then I think I need this to continue because now I have nowhere to go. I don't even have a friend to stay with anymore. When you haven't met up with your friends in years and always decline invitations to dinner/weddings/BBQ/movies/bars/basically any and all social interaction, they stop calling. Even phone calls were awkward. They talk about their child or going to the game or wife etc. I talk about having to clean up urine from the hospital bed at 2am or how I had to make 2 breakfasts because grandma forgot she asked for a waffle and refuses to eat said waffle because she said she wanted a English muffin and I was wrong.
I fear the future. I crave escape. I just want someplace warm to live, low stress and a job where the pain doesn't kill me.