I write a blog about my experiences being poor, which is a large part of my depression. I've been depressed my entire life, but the last several years have been pretty hellish because I lost my support system and my ability to provide for myself. So, I write about it. I used to have a blog about it before, but I deleted it when my brother found it. He is one of the main reasons I am poor (long story) and he's an abusive sociopath and he gets great pleasure out of seeing me suffer. Having him find my blog and know how bad I was doing was the worst thing in the world. I didn't have my name on it, but he found it because a friend of mine mentioned me in her blog and I had left a comment somewhere and he was able to tell it was me Anyway, I started another blog and didn't tell any friends, except one trusted friend who understands me. I have linked to it on my profile. Within the past week, I've had two e-mails from strangers offering me money. I can't take anything from anyone, and I realize it's because I don't think I deserve it. If they want to help someone, they should help someone who can be helped. Not me. What's funny to me is that there's a lot in my blog that I don't write about. I only casually talk about my health problems, and I don't really talk about my abusive family. It's almost funny to me that people write me and tell me about how "horrifying" my blog stories are, when I don't even talk about the worst stuff. I'm thinking of writing a book. I don't know why I am compelled to write about it, but I am. It's all I can do. I have a family friend who has helped me in the past, but I can't go to her because I don't want to take money from anyone. I lived without electricity for a month because I couldn't afford it, and I was too scared to call her. The only reason I have electricity now is because I finished graduate school and she gave me $500 for a graduation present. I had a job at the time, I just didn't make enough money to cover my mountains of bills. I am useless. As hard as I have tried to be a functional, responsible adult, I've failed at every opportunity, and everything I try makes everything worse. So now I don't have a job, don't think I'll get one, and I've applied for state welfare. The psychiatrist told me that I'd only get about $325 a month, which is more than I make now. I might not even get it, because it's kind of difficult to convince anyone that I'm too depressed to work when I just finished a master's degree with no support or help from anyone. Something just snapped. I was ready to work and then in a moment I just crumbled under years and years of pressure. I want to make money, I just suck at making money. I kind of want to take money from the people who offer it, but I don't know if I could live with myself. I'm not really asking for advice or "permission." I'm not insulted by their offers. There's no amount of money anyone can I can logically expect anyone to give me that will let me keep my home or get the help I need. I am facing homelessness, in fact I don't know why I'm not homeless right now. It's out of my hands. Am I being silly for pushing people away?