The day I was supposed to leave.
So the following is a message I sent to my sister that described events that took place between 4pm on the 19th of December and lasted to 4pm today.
Heard about the storms, yeah. The whole story: loaded up the truck. WE both Drove in it to pick up the car carrier. They didn’t have the right car carrier. Jen mentions the weird sound. They send a mechanic. Mechanic says brakes could go at any time, can’t even drive it home. They send a row truck for our massive loaded vehicle and are sending a car carrier to the house. Both arrive at our house simultaneously. The car carrier’s right back tire is flat. They’re sending a new truck and guys the repack the new truck. Guys arrive, truck isn’t here. The truck coming from Houston got rented to someone else. So we wait a little bit long and a replacement replacement truck arrives. Gets packed well this time. We spend a while longer cleaning up the place, getting everything in order… About to pull out. Jen finds someone else’s rental agreement inside the new truck. We go to get a new agreement printed and have our tire filled. I drive us to the wrong Penske store. Can’t get tire filled there. They print agreement and send Goodyear to get tire changed. They tell us we are not being charged. We drive home and hit road tomorrow around 4:30 am on the day the Mayans predicted something something whatever. Merry Christmas to all and to all, a good night.
Starting over (or: Sanity for Christmas)
I feel like I’m homeless. I feel like this isn’t home. I feel like I won’t be home until the 20th. I feel like I’m coming home for Christmas.
But as soon as the second or third of January rolls around, THAT won’t feel like home any more and I will be starting to try to leave.
Ugh. I know I’m only thirty. I know I’m hampered by mental illness. But I still feel ashamed by having to start over again.
Ready to trust life again
Today did not go as planned. But I stepped up, kept my cool, and survived. There are worse things going on than what is happening to me and, in the end, something got done that needed to be done. I am glad of that.
Things are still happening. I will face them largely on my own today. I will be okay.
What has happened today has changed me, as everything does. But I can see that both good and bad needed to happen and are survivable. I needed to go through this to see that there are people on my side in both good and bad. That if I am honest, I will not be skinned alive.
I hope to god that I am not being foolish in this. I hope I can begin to be honest. It has not always been this way. People have often told me that as long as I am honest, they won’t get mad. They lied, it hurt.
But I think I’m ready to trust life again. For now.
I’m hurting right now. I hurt. I hurt on all levels. This is too much. I’m turning to anyone and everyone I think I can turn to and that ain’t many.
I’m slowly giving in to the idea that I will just need to be homeless. That would be best. Just give up the ghost.
Homeless
Am I too proud to move back in with my parents… again? I think so. As soon as I left that house they put it up on the market. They’ve bought another place. I kept them there. I’m ashamed of that.
Now, She tells me she can’t afford to keep supporting me now. That’s true. I’ve helped drive her to bankruptcy and I can’t imagine being intimate with someone I’ve caused so much harm to. But even if I was to get it together for myself, she doesn’t want to live with me.
I’ve never tried to commit suicide. But today was so bad I took her pain pills and drank. I was knocked out for a while. It was not a suicide attempt. It wasn’t a cry for help. For me, it was the help.
I am a danger to myself. I am being reckless because I cannot stand the situation I am in. Unless she changes how she feels or a miracle occurs, on December 21, 2012 I will be homeless. And with that looming ahead of me, suicide IS an option I am considering. I cannot deny this fact. My life has not been, is not and will continue to be not worth living.
In the time I have spent with her, I have been mostly a burden. A pest. She described our relationship as “parent/child” and that hurt the most. It hurts because it is true. I am a child. I am ashamed.
I am ashamed of my whole pathetic life. This is not black/white splitting. I am a pathetic waste and certainly have been since adulthood.
My life is permanently damaged in large part due to an undiagnosed mental illness. I have BPD. If I had had the ability to make a suicide attempt prior, I would have gotten the care I needed, but I didn’t. A suicide attempt would be a long time coming.
This is where my life is headed and maybe it needs to be there. I need to just be a mentally ill homeless person for a while. This might just be what happens to someone with my condition who miraculously escapes treatment for so goddamn motherfucking long.
Nothing happens for a reason.
Nothing.
Getting fired from a 60,000+ a year job does not “happen for a reason”. Nothing happens for a reason.
She went and got fired. I don’t believe for one-half an instant that she was “not a good fit”. They got tired of her being absent and were waiting for a good time (and a good excuse) to let someone otherwise talented at her job go.
All of that “it’s going to be fine” bullshit was wrong to the nth degree.
But more important than that, it did not “happen for a reason”. There weren’t “signs”. There wasn’t anything like that. No. There was randomness and nothing. She got fired not because the universe wanted her home. She got fired because her job didn’t not want her there.
That she is treating this like the Buddha is most disturbing. There is a detachment here that is disturbing and fucked up and wrong and just no. And I am feeling put off by it all. I am feeling like if I’m not a goddamned Buddhist monk about this, I am being silly. Fuck that shit. Fuck it all.
Considering a major online life overhaul.
The thing my generation was given to believe in was the internet. It seems like a small pittance compared to believing in the Second World War or Civil Rights or ending the Vietnam War or The Motherfucking American Dream. More than that, the internet is being used against us. And it depresses us. And it overwhelms us. And it divides us. And it sucks our time and energy away. And it gives us FOMO (fear of missing out).
My generation has seen so much of what we could count on betray us. And now, the thing we were given to believe in does as well.
Don’t know what to think about that.
The internet is a cruel and vicious place. I’m not going to allow it anymore.
So we talked. And I do feel better. But there was no reason whatsoever to believe that it would have worked.
In fact, She avoided the whole complaint that She still feels to me like someone who would get angry at me when I tell Her things. Even as simple as having suicidal thoughts.
She didn’t lose her job. She might still and also, she might quit. No, I am not making this up these are possibilities.
Ten days ago, she laid into me. She got me to the point of suicidal thoughts. When she apologized to me, I told her I had had suicidal thoughts because of it. She got mad at me for telling her that. I am not kidding.
And she wonders why I can’t talk to her. I’m trying to get over this. But it’s not working. I am screaming inside my head.
I hate the internet so hard right now.
The “We The People” website that hosts “online petitions” has a number of petitions demanding that certain states of the union be allowed to secede.
On top of that, there’s now a petition calling for the deportation of individuals who signed any of the secession petitions.
The “We The People” petition website is not some social networking site or a blog. It is a part of the official White House website.
There is a point when this needs to stop and we have gone so far past it I can’t even remember when we past it or what not being “past it” would even look like anymore.
A New Day in the Old Town 