Debt

Dear Delyara, I sat in the dark tonight because turning on the lights feels like spending money I don't have. The math never adds up at the end of the month, no matter how many meals I skip or how many extra shifts I take. I see my friends posting about their holidays, and I feel a bitter coldness in my chest because I can’t even afford a new pair of work shoes. The weight of the interest rates feels like a physical hand pressing down on my shoulders every hour of the day. I’m not living; I’m just managing a slow-motion disaster. I wonder if I’ll ever breathe without calculating the cost of the air.