Rich v. Poor

I have some deep seeded issues with being rich. 

I always have.

It's my catholic upbringing rearing its head. It's harder for a rich man to make it to heaven than for a camel to move through the eye of a pin.

I feel like I should be destitute living in a tent to please God.

But I can't be destitute living in a tent, because then I'd just be dead.

I've always tried to deal with this by ignoring what I have as a form rejection. What I don't see I don't have.

But every once and a while my subconscious gets the best of me....... 

And I try to throw away my diamonds rings in my sleep. 

I bet no one saw that one coming. 

Yes, my engagement ring and a ring from our honeymoon. They symbolize the life we had and the one we thought we would.

When I told J about this he laughed at me and reminded me that I am broke.

I spend more than my income on medical expenses.

My disability insurance company has screwed me and I no longer receive their assistance, even though I qualify they found a way to purge my expensive, sick self. 

Yep, I'm broke and if it wasn't for my husband, my parents, and so many other loved ones who have supported me in so many ways to keep my life full and fulfilling I would be out in a tent in the cold.

I'm coming around to accepting my "poor" status and that I won't be damned to hell for living comfortably while I'm here.

But for now, I'm keeping my diamonds off at night.