u/JellyfishFit3871

I don't think I'm gonna meet my goals. (Which are simple. I want to raise my teens and outlive my dog. That's all. At least get them to a better place.)

I don't have health coverage. I've tried.

I weighed myself this morning. Grim.

I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want anyone to have to explain to my dog where I am, or ask anyone else to take the kids to band camp. I don't know how to do this. I don't need it for me. I need it for my babies and my dog and my mom.

Edit: As much as I appreciate the information, yes. I have gone through social workers, applications to state services, etc.

Y'all don't tell me to walk away. I can't afford to.

But I'm tired in my bones and toenails.

I truly want to raise my children, but I also wouldn't mind if I fall asleep tonight don't wake in the morning.

I don't think my cancer is gone. I also can't feel comfortable creating the debt for my family beyond the treatment I've received.

Didn't have the energy or bandwidth to cook, so I went to nab two pizzas from the nearest place.

Some 40+ dude is behaving absolutely inappropriately toward the young woman working the cash register - I'd guesstimate that she's somewhere between 17 and 20.

"Hey baby, can Pepaw and I get a couple of those (enter your favorite pizza order here?) I have the dog out in the truck if you want to say hello."

Nice young woman walks out with me to visit uncle dog. (Who isn't the tiniest bit aggressive, but he probably would fuck you up or die trying if he thought I felt unsafe. He's large and kind of pointy and loud.)

So now I have a new granddaughter. I'm whiter than milk, my new grandbaby is quite tan. Families look quite a lot of ways, but I've lived long enough to not leave my sisters or daughters without backup.

I know very few details. During WWII, my husband's grandfather landed with US troops at the port of Naples in early October 1943. (Grandfather was with the 1051st US Army engineers, a ports and bridges repair group.)

Soldiers being soldiers, Mr. C struck up a romance, and apparently was so smitten that he wanted to bring home a war bride. His command wouldn't allow that.

What little I know about her, from a single portrait that was kept carefully in a trunk until Mr. C died in 2012:

Her name was Enrichetta D'Andrea and she was living in Naples. It's difficult to guess her age, but I'd be comfortable saying 25-35. (Mr. C was 31 at the time.) And that's it. I don't suspect I'm looking for a living person.

Any suggestions on anywhere to start? My husband has long been curious whether there's an unknown aunt or uncle, but he's not interested in DNA testing.

Just got home from the in-laws', and there's a new and exciting problem. Ma is cultivating a colony of feral cats on her carport and in the yard, and this is sincerely not a good situation.

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First of all, Ma wobbles all over the place, including up and down the steps as she feeds the cats every day. I'm literally afraid for both of the in-laws as they enter and exit their house - none of the entryways are safe. Add the risk of tripping over a cat, and they'll be lucky if they don't break a hip.

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Secondly, the cats are visibly unhealthy. I don't know what, and certainly can't catch them, but it's likely contagious. I can't find any real resources in that area. Animal control seems useless, and there are no trap/neuter/release programs I can find. The cats are pitiful and - please forgive me for seeming cold-hearted, I promise I'm not - it would likely be kinder to euthanize. The animals are THAT unhealthy.

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And finally, the bowls of cat food are attracting other animals onto the carport. Possums have already been spotted, and I have a strong suspicion that raccoons are also snacking. It's only a matter of time before the coyotes show up, if only to snack on some cats. (There's a heavily wooded area behind the house. I assure you that there are coyotes.)

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I'm just so frustrated with the whole situation, and I'm gonna offer a big "told you so" when something inevitably happens.

It's not just me. My brother's wife notices that Mama ain't quite firing on all cylinders.

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And I truly don't mind the work. I'll do whatever I'm able to do. But I appreciate that someone else notices that we're being gaslighted with regard to the daily needs versus what Mama is certain she manages just fine.

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I'm so tired. I have been through a major health situation this past year. I need to raise my children and outlive my dog.

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And Ma thinks I should drive out and do plumbing and roofing work and drive her critters to the veterinarian. I truly don't mind that, but I'm so damned tired. I would if I could.

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Ma is in better physical shape than I am.

Mama Two just offered up prayers for someone's septic tank. And of course, neither of them give permission for Meta to own any of their content.

The Internet used to seem like a promising new frontier.

So here I am, having one of those bad days. Got a shower because my ostomy bag and I had a shituation. I'm unnecessarily exhausted. Currently wrapped in a towel and made it halfway across the house to get some unsoiled clothes, but I sat down.

So now here I sit in my recliner, wrapped in a towel, and swaddled in a blanket. I am kinda trapped here until my daughter's boyfriend leaves, because wow this is awkward!

I'm in southeast Georgia, USA. The heat pump (5 years old, reliable manufacturer, sized appropriately to the house) just isn't keeping up in the afternoon.

It cools perfectly fine in the morning and overnight, just not in the afternoon when the sun is absolutely baking the west side of the house.

I don't think it's an issue with coolant or the unit, just simple thermodynamics. And I intend to to add some insulation to the west-facing windows, because Og knows I'm not planning to listen to my spouse gripe like this all summer.

But if it's currently Freezing in my house(from my POV) in SE Georgia, it's an insulation problem, not an HVAC issue, probably? Like, as soon as the sun isn't baking the west side of the house, temps drop dramatically.

The director announced the show for next year. A lot of the kids hate it. Like, considering quitting because it really is that bad.

I'm not just talking about my own two children. About half the band. (And I'm a former member.) I agree it's pretty lame. And I'm not sure that I - as an active member of the boosters - can agree to spend hard-earned money on arranging and building props and buying silks and whatever for a show design that 50% of the kids loathe.

If it were just my own offspring, I'd tell them to suck it up and hope that the show design is better than they expect. But it's not just my crotch goblins. I am that one who drives a lot of kids at 2 am after football games. Those kids are messaging Miss Rachel and asking "doesn't this sound lame?"

It does.

Usually there's a vote for the next year's show. Not this time. And I don't know exactly how to address this without giving my kids permission to quit or just making them a target if I criticize.

Any advice?