Of Poverty And Friends

Dear Friend,

You’ve experienced some serious blows over the past year. Our country’s current economic status left you jobless – twice – and now that your parents are gone, you have no family members to help you. Your friends – old and new – have done what they can, but your bills are piling up, you have no money for groceries more often than not, and you don’t have a car, much less the good credit or steady employment to afford one.

And the battle to get financial assistance seems never ending and unwinnable.

Like some of your other friends, I’ve helped you out when I can. But I can almost physically feel the depression that’s setting in with you each time I talk with you. You don’t laugh as often as you used to. You aren’t as optimistic as you once were. You don’t make plans, or sleep at night, or care about your appearance anymore.

Sometimes I feel like there’s a wall between us. I feel your frustration, worry, anger, and sadness, but you won’t listen to me when I ask you to seek help. You’re sinking and I don’t know what else to do about it. I wish you’d make an appointment at the community mental health center. Please. You don’t have to have insurance.

You interviewed for a job last week, and it looks as though you may get it. I pray you do. And I hope your plans for transportation work out until you can buy a car. I honestly wonder whether you can handle any more setbacks. I want you to know I will continue helping you in any way I can. Even if it means taking a day to drive up there and get you to an appointment.

Love,

Alicia