No matter what has come up, I have learned I cannot let my pride take over.
We need food. Period. We need health insurance. Period.
Today I went to the local food bank. I was shaking walking in. I strapped P onto my back (30 freaking pounds, people) and just did it. This particular location is in the basement of a church. Those make me anxious, too. But I'm not gonna lie, these people were super friendly and showed not one iota of pity, disgust, or disapproval.
It was weird. It turns out there is state food, federal food, and everything else. I got more staples. I have a lot of that already, but now have more in the fruit area. More variety. People bring things from their gardens, too, so I was able to snag a few fresh items - not enough to juice with - but they can go in muffins.
Hopefully I can convince P to eat some of the fruit I got. I certainly am going to get over my distaste for canned stuff and eat up. I forgot to ask if they had milk, though. Really could use milk. But, mom will help with that.
When we are on our feet, I'm going to make sure I donate. Needing services such as these really makes me want to give back. Because someone else donated so my child and I could eat. For that I am forever grateful.
No more pride here.