From rags to riches – Life as the nouveau poor


They shafted us. The two sneaky, slimy bankers that we met with and made a new agreement with are now trying to back-track and pretend it never happened.

The outcome of the meeting was that they would re-audit us as our situation had changed, and even though they couldn’t guarantee us what the outcome would be, they would at least give us another chance to prove we were viable.

One week later they sent us a solicitor’s letter to say they were re-instigating repossession proceedings, as our arrears were continuing to rise and they would give us 10 days to come up with new proposals.

This was instead of the summary of the meeting and subsequent audit letter which they had promised us. They printed off the new audit form in front of us and gave it to us and promised they would confirm it all in a letter within the week.

I didn’t care about protocol anymore. They had gone too far. Four years of crap and mental torture, busting our chops to pay them what we could. “The Insolvency Bill is due out in weeks,” I said “and you will have to play ball.”

Again same answer as last time. “We have no opinion on this and you will have to go to a financial adviser.”

It’s obvious to me now that the banks are intent on repossessing our home. We are back to square one. I cried and bawled. I was beyond frustration. My husband just sat there. He knew I’d had enough. The kids were on mid-term the following week and after seeing some light at the end of the tunnel after our meeting, I had been really looking forward to it.

We were going to chill for a few days. I had held back cinema and meal vouchers since Christmas, planned each day and worked out cheap day trips.

Now I couldn’t care less. I felt like throwing in the towel. I’m sick of being broke, not being able to do anything with my life, or move on. I’m sick of being cold, trying to make ends meet and trying to be positive. I’m sick of this miserable country and I’m sick of this Government.

Do I just hand the keys back and try and move on? I don’t know. I can’t afford after-school activities or hobbies for my girls. Their childhood is passing me by and I will never get this time back again. Am I being selfish trying to hang on to my beloved home? We need a holiday and badly need sunshine in our bones. My mind is continually racing and all this stress must be taking a huge toll on my body. What if I get cancer?

My kids give me a rosebush every Mother’s Day and I add them to my rose garden and name them and take immense pleasure in watching them grow and spread. I don’t want one this year as I don’t know if I am going to be here to watch them grow anymore. Am I just growing them for the new tenant?

I only heard this week that a lot of people have just stopped paying their mortgages and also on any other properties they own, so not only are they living rent-free they also have a rental income and social welfare with all the trimmings.

They will get the same terms and conditions as me in the Insolvency Bill. I admire them in a way, they had the balls to just stop paying the mortgage and all that extra cash must have kept them sane. Maybe I just need to grow a pair.


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