See, told ya.

You know back in the day, bartering was the currency? A shell for example was the equivalent of the stupid paper money we have now. If only I could pay for things with shells. If only money weren’t such a burden on my everyday life.

I have shells. I have tons of mostly useless items. I got attached to these items as a kid, rarely let things go, essentially, became a hoarder. You know why? Because objects are always there for me, people rarely. So I held on to something tangible like a rock collection, because at least it usually conjured up a positive memory.

Now I’m broke. I’ve been broke since last year. I worked my ass off to save for school to have the least amount of debt possible. Then, my family turned its back on me, almost entirely, and all of my money went into health care expenses, necessary medication that costs $750/month. Fuck you America and your torched health care system. You’re not repairing it fast enough for being a developed nation. All because my doctors never gave me the appropriate test which provides evidence that I have narcolepsy until 3 and a half years after onset of symptoms.

I’m trying to get the money back that was spent on the medication. Correction, Ken (who I inherited 23 chromosomes from) and is a lawyer and extremely wealthy has been working on this. Problem is, he doesn’t know what it’s like to be broke, to go week to week unsure if there’s enough money to put gas in the tank to get to a doctor appointment.

I sell items on Amazon to try to get some money. My items I’m so attached to, the one thing that was consistent in my life, and slowly, those  items are slipping away.

I called Ken this morning to see if he filed my taxes.

Three weeks ago, he demanded he’d do them after I called him from the tax office asking if I could have some money to file them. I told him I’d send them right away and explained how important it was that they be filed immediately. See, I wasn’t able to file them earlier because of my residency status for this state.

I wasn’t an official resident until the 24th of March. Being a resident entitles me to certain additional financial aid awards when completing the FAFSA, financial aid for higher education. When I called Ken this morning after trying to connect my IRS tax information to the FAFSA, I wasn’t able to do so. With this portion of my FAFSA incomplete, my school won’t even look at the application to award money to me, regardless of them knowing my situation.

Ken just filed my taxes last week. It takes 2-3 weeks to have the information electronically transferred. That amount of time hasn’t passed. When I called Ken to inquire as to his reasoning for not filing the taxes earlier, when he knew my situation, he became immediately defensive. I asked him if he was prepared to pay thousands of extra dollars ($15000 approx.) for my education next year. He said he’s not a bottomless pit of money (understood). He kept yelling at me, attempting to justify the delays.

It frustrates me when people lie. It’s really easy to understand if someone doesn’t have the means to pay for something, if truly broke. However, I know that Ken is far from broke and has never experienced what it’s like to be broke. His law firm was just voted in the top 20 in the nation for medium-sized firms. If you’re fresh out of law school and join that firm, you’ll make a comfortable $150K/year. He’s a partner in the firm. He makes bank, and for the amount of money he has, rarely spends it. So Ken, don’t fucking tell me you don’t have the money. Tell me you don’t want to finance the additional costs of my education, but don’t say you don’t have the money. Because you do, and I know you do. And I find it ridiculous how inconsistently financially supportive you are. I already know not to expect emotional support from you. I kind of reverted to calling you my banker. Now, you won’t even do that?

I don’t even blame Ken. I don’t blame the school, I blame the system. It shouldn’t be this challenging to get through school, to not even be certain that I can go next year because of financial constraints. I now have to put as many more items as I can find on Amazon to sell. I have to start selling things that aren’t rarely used, but often used.

I have been in and out of higher education for nine years. Nine years with two AA degrees. Those don’t facilitate career growth in today’s society. Even a Bachelor’s degree won’t do much. Problem is, I have to obtain a Bachelor’s prior to going further along. I’m so close, almost there. Yet, I’m afraid I won’t even finish a Bachelor’s now.

Fuck you system.

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