Walking on Thin Ice: Facing Financial Fear with Quiet Courage
When money runs low, every step feels risky. Here’s how I’m learning to move forward anyway.
It’s not easy to admit when you feel vulnerable.
For me, it started with a dying laptop – and the sinking fear that I couldn’t afford what came next.
Here’s how I’m learning to stay upright while the ground beneath me feels thinner every day.
Everything Is Relative.
Right now, things feel complicated for me.
Of course, someone could easily – and rightly – point out that there are far worse problems in life.
So, what’s going on?
In a word: money.
When money isn’t enough, you start feeling unsafe. Fear creeps in, and the future turns grey.
Out of pride, you stay silent around the people closest to you. There’s a kind of shame that makes you pretend everything’s fine.
But the real fear is the thought that something unexpected might happen – something that brings even more expenses.
And so you face each day carrying this weight on your shoulders.
It’s a bit like walking on thin ice. You don’t know if you’re going to fall, and every step is cautious.
Today, I had no choice but to call a technician.
My notebook’s battery had finally given out – critical condition.
This laptop has been with me since 2016, when I bought it refurbished. A solid machine, born in 2014. Apart from the battery – and only now – it has never given me a single problem. Not once.
But time catches up. Windows 10 support will end in October 2025, and since I spend 16 hours a day online, I can’t afford the risks that come with an outdated system.
So now I’m stuck between two options:
• Keep the computer and switch to Linux, knowing that many of the programs I rely on, like Adobe, won’t work.
• Or buy a newer refurbished computer.
This is exactly the kind of unexpected expense that hits you when you can least afford it – and yet I have no real choice if I want to work safely and keep all my tools running.
I’ll be honest: making the decision was hard.
At first, I thought about postponing.
But deep down, I knew I was taking a risk. One sudden voltage surge and the motherboard would fry – goodbye, computer.
The technician said my laptop still holds a bit of value, so we agreed on a trade-in.
To protect it, I left the notebook at the shop.
For the next week, I’ll be working from my smartphone.
It’s harder – especially at 65 – but it’s safer.
Better not to tempt fate.
For now, my search for new opportunities beyond Italian language tutoring will be done on a much smaller screen and a much slower pace.
I have to hang in there. I have to keep believing.
That’s essential – even though situations like this make my precarious position even clearer.
Right now, I’m walking on ice – and there’s a strong, cold wind blowing.
