At the bottom of a hole

“We all start somewhere.”

A phrase I’ve often heard when you’re struggling to make ends meet.

Some will never know what it’s like.

They’ll never know what it’s like to be hungry,

When all you could afford was a carton of eggs with the pennies you dug from your car, and the 10¢ you found in the parking lot.

They will never know what it’s like to use the oven in the kitchen to stay warm on a winter night, because your attic apartment didn’t have heat.

Or to figure out no doctor would help you, until you’d lost every cent your ever saved.

They will never know the fear of not knowing where you’ll live, while struggling to nourish a life inside your body.

To be told you’re not enough,

To be shown you’re worth less.

To be shown “love” that actually strips you love.

To realize true happiness is a mirage,

The stress to find it will eat you alive.

To need support and get the opposite, but you felt you deserved that.

You must be cursed.

How do you escape the generational hole that you were thrown in?

Being at the bottom is dark, it’s scary, and there is no pathway up. No ladders to climb, no elevator to take you up, no hand to help you out.

And still… I have hope, my low position in this world is not from a lack of hope and dreams, I have plenty of those.

If I can’t find a pathway out, I may as well make one, or find my wings and fly my ass to the high ground.

~A