I bit the bullet, called Father on phone and told him about bankruptcy issues, had a nice long talk, ended up feeling better...

Better then a letter:

Father says: "You just need to go in and get some good old financial advice, see what they have to say and then pick your best option. You are young, motivated and not a bad person. I know you will be fine no matter what you decide. And whether or not it was a good idea to move to San Diego at this time, that is where you are, there is no point in running away from the challenge and you will be fine. You will be fine. There are many, many options and you will be fine."

"Thanks Dad."

"So where is Husband in all of this?"

"Oh don't get me started Dad. I've been avoiding talking about him to anyone, even the blog... this just feels like my fight (to me) and I guess he pretty much thinks it's my fight too. He basically told me as much, or as little, yesterday when I brought it up and he responded with 'I told you this is why we needed to plan better and not move here and stay up there and...' So it's my fault, I have to fix it."

"That's BS Daughter, you two aren't roommates trying to make rent, you're MARRIED trying to LIVE A LIFE. He's gotta step it up too, you're in this together. Do you want me and your mother to talk to him about it."

"No, I'll bring it up again. But thanks for offering."

"I know you can do this."

"I know I can do it too."

"You'll keep me posted."

"I will. I'm right on top of all of it."

"You are not the first person in the history of time to have issues with this stuff. You live, you learn, you hopefully pass it on to your daughter and help her learn."

"I'm going to scream and yell at her that credit is the devil, THE DEVIL."

"Or you can do that. Don't be such a Debbie Downer (HA, go Dad). Just relax... it'll work itself out."