Real Life

It’s to bright and shiny out there. Bright colors and sharp angles in real life.  I’d rather be medicated and sink in the nothingness of not caring about anything.  It is better than facing the realities of life like, losing your home to back taxes but alas, I can’t.  I have to take care of me.  I rant and rave about my house and neighborhood but you know, I’ve got it better than so many people. Real Homelessness is a reality for so many people. I am disabled and live on a fixed income. I signed up for the tax relief on my home, which I own free and clear. It’s been in my family for over 30 years, I’m just the last one to buy it from another family member but city and country real estate taxes must be paid every year. Some how I missed signing up for tax relief last year and I got a notice to appear thing about my back taxes.  I thought, ‘Oh no! What if I owed for the years I thought I was on tax relief?  10 11 years? How many thousands of dollars?   Where would I find the money?  I wouldn’t find any was the sad reality.  The fine print said they could “set me out”.  On the curb. I felt a jolt of electric pain in my stomach area. Constricting.  Fear. Real and raw. Sweat began forming on my forehead and I couldn’t catch my breath.  My hands were shaking like the proverbal leaf.  I could loss everything!  My home could be taken. My home that I worked and paid for could be taken for back taxes. How is that? What would happen to me?  How would I live?  I couldn’t see living without a place to lay my head or the security of going to sleep. Frightening, truly frightening. I lost Rick almost one year ago and two weeks before that my ex husband died. My son died 6 years ago and I am truly alone.  I am the only one left to take care of me.  Things that have fallen apart in the past year and I can’t do anything about them.  I was in a major full blown panic attack. It was 10:30 or 11:00 at night.  My room mate got up for his midnight snake and I told him that I needed him to help me!  He wanted to know if I needed to go to the hospital. I must have been a sight.  No, I told him and then explained about the back taxes. I looked at him and said I can’t lose my house! I need you to stay here and help me because I can’t lose my house!  I knew I couldn’t do a thing about it at that time of night but that didn’t help matters any.  I think my room mate thought I had lost my mind.  He asked me if he could look at the papers and I handed them to him.  He read for a few minutes and told me to slow down. That I didn’t owe but a small amount and may not have to pay that.  He said I needed to call ASAP and see what was up. Well, I knew that but I thanked him for talking me down because I was in panic mode.  I called the next morning and set up a payment plan on the phone. I didn’t owe thousands but a couple hundred.  We may eat beans and taters for a couple of months unless room mate wants to buy steaks, but at least I’m not in danger being set “on the curb”.  A horrifing reality to many people.  Then I texted my room mate and told him not to worry that he didn’t have to come home to a crazy landlady.  I really do need to keep my room mate.