That's really the whole post.
For the past year and a half, I had worked steadily and made 72-96k per year (different positions in my field). Got an email last week that the job is gone. Not much warning at all.
I had thought about living on my own. Trying to make it. Now I can't, because the position I had was a big pay bump, chance for health insurance, and more. I don't know what to do.
Plus, I'm a lesbian. That causes its own problems when you're trying to move through life.
The really ironic thing is that I'm in legal. But, maybe it's not so bad. I'm physically safe, things are better than they were a year ago, and because of the money thing, I have to pick what I'm dealing with: stay with pets in familiar surroundings and deal with my wife, or move back in with my 70+ year old parents who hurt me in their own way when I was a kid. Wife has put hands to me four times in the past decade of marriage, not for more than a year as of this writing. She hasn't really yelled at me since February. Admits to “emotional abuse” of me.
All the same…
I had a clarifying moment when I saw Gabby Petito in the car in the wilderness. Heard her sobs. It reminded me of the worst fight we had, on a trip to Maui. It started with a throwaway remark. Wife was snippy with me because I wasn't sure where to put my wallet (bury in car? Put in backpack? Where?) at a trailhead. She snapped at me to just put it in X already, hurry up, blah blah. I shouldn't have done it. But I was embarrassed that she got angry with me with other people around, so I mumbled “bitch.”
She growled for me to get back in the car and started really going into me before we even shut the doors. I never did get to hike that trail. I apologized and tried to convince her to turn around. She went from snapping, to yelling, to screaming in the confined car. I'm the bitch, we shouldn't take this vacation, why am I such a complainer, maybe she should leave. I was really upset, and cried a lot. A few hours later, she felt bad and tried to be nice. We went for shave ice, but she told me to bring hers back to the car for her to eat, she didn't want to be in public after the fight. Also being upset, I forgot or misheard her, as “get the shave ice while I wait in the car, then I'll join you.” So I got a table, ate a bunch of mine, wondering where she was. Texted her to ask where she was, she said she wasn't coming out. I decided to bring what was left of hers (half melted). She freaked out (I now see it is not a good idea to eat melting shave ice in a car), yelled at me to throw it away. I refused, not realizing the mess and knowing how expensive those things are. She got really mad again, said we were leaving, threw the mess of ice and flavor out the window. I was holding it, so she grabbed my wrist, hard. It hurt. I guess this restarted our first fight. She's screaming at me again. I'm crying. I'm just a crier, okay?
This continues as we go along the rural road surrounded by bamboo, on all sides. I manage a word in and say “maybe they were right,” about a person who was previously concerned that she's abusive. Wow. That just increased the volume and profanity. She yelled that if I want to leave, I can get out NOW, right now. I was on an island I barely knew, had left my wallet in the condo. I cried and said, no, it's okay, I'm sorry. I'll stay. So when I saw Gabby hysterical and heard all that had happened, I remembered me in the bamboo forest. We calmed down. No other incidents on the trip, except that after I accidentally pulled her hair in the car while reaching around for something, and apologized, she reached up and pulled on mine. As if to make it even.
To her credit, things ARE better now. We've worked really hard on each of our mental health struggles, and are really lucky to be insured and have most treatments and things we need. She is a warmer, calmer presence after treatment. But I'm still scared at times.
The changed nature of work, not to give permanence, race to the bottom on pay, lack of benefits, lack of universal healthcare, means that this is the best I can get. Single people can't make it on their own, and our support system is torn to shreds.