sometimes you just wanna word vomit, you know? in a somewhat public, but, somewhat private way. i cant imagine who would read this is my daily life these days. i dont even know if it matters.
so, im homeless. staying in a motel at the moment. shits been real fucked; since dad died, but obviously accelerated since mom passed as well.
i stayed home to be the primary care taker of my mother. her health had been declining at a steady rate; and she was couch bound her last two or three years. I knew that if i had left, all that would left at home would be people of questionable sound mind, and questionable motivations.
i thought that was obvious. known. clear. apparent.
apparently not.
not that i expected a big fucking party or reward for doing, what i consider, the bare fucking minimum for a mother that had sacrificed more or less literally her entire self worth for the sake of her family.
but what i did expect was some amount of security.
not a single sibling has offered to take me in. and maybe its due to the fact that i have my younger sibling with me. the day we had to leave our home, was literally his birthday. and no one was taking care of him, and he wasent taking care of himself. i felt obligated as an older sibling. not only did it feel right in some bullshit roman catholic family ideology kind of way; but it made logical sense. sure. do i feel somewhat slighted that the entire estate was evenly split? yeah. i do. i feel some kind of fucking way that i was taking care of literally everyones food intake by way of purchasing, taking inventory, & cooking, everyday. while everyone around me was either stoned, drunk, or literally just..... watching me cook and waiting.
but ultimately; i always knew thats what both parents always intended and wanted. everything evenly split.
unfortunately, one half of the co executors didnt feel the same way.
super ironic, given they were the second born.
and my family doesnt really seem to give a shit.
and i cant fucking get a place because on paper i literally look like a fucking crack head. no proof of income. no valid ID. shit credit. debt collectors.
i can literally pay six months worth of rent as down payment, and that doesnt matter. instead i have to piss it away to a shitty motel with zero ventilation & an air conditioner thats doing the bare minimum & screams while doing it.
and honestly, i really dont know why i thought it would different. life has taught me enough over the years to expect less. i get the short end. wah wah self pity bullshit, but, the proof is in the pudding.
i was so excited a few months ago to start a new life. to finally get a job, get a routine, decorate my entire living space in my super specific autistic, colorful gay ass way. fuck, maybe even finally get a fucking therapist!
but instead, im here. at the red roof inn. spending 550 a week. constantly feeling like even this rug will get pulled out from underneath me.
i really dont know how to feel anymore. the last two days ive felt so hopeless, i didnt even try to look into housing. theres so many scams; everything feels so unrealistic for given my circumstances. realtors, real estate agents, property mangers; they dont give a single fuck about my life or story. i cant prove im a good person.
the only person i was in contact with that i knew wasnt a scammer, someone referred to me through family members, ghosted. after i got a sister to agree to be a cosigner; BEFORE I KNEW SHE WAS LITERALLY GOING TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY FOR I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW LONG. BECAUSE WHY WOULD SHE MENTION THAT WHEN AGREEING TO BE A CO SIGNER?
this feels so fucking helpless. i dont even want to try anymore. i feel so stupid, embarrassed, ashamed. i thought i was a good enough person that something like this wouldnt happen to me. not that i ever expected to live for free; i dont mean to imply that. but like, im on the verge of actually being on the streets. and as dark as this may sound; thats not going to happen. ive had a hard enough time finding the motivation to continue when things were "good."
i have one avenue left to try. and i dont expect it to work honestly. im a 35 year old gay man, going on 36. i obviously shouldnt take the place of any single mother with children. what am i supposed to do? why wont my sisters offer to take me in?
i saw this coming, but it still hit me like a brick. i dont really want to see it through this. ive been so tired for years with everything ive gone though. the 7 months of staying at emmitts was supposed to be the break i needed to finally properly grieve over losing my mother and my home; but it was instead a constant anxious mess of wondering when brians fucking check would clear & trying to circumnavigate/fix his fucks ups.
in the next few weeks is my birthday, fathers day, and the two year anniversary of not only watching nyla get hit by a car, but her dying in my arms. and i cant even really mourn any of that.
so much lately i just keep thinking, " i just want to go home." but there is no home. it doesnt mean anything anymore. i dont know what my former safe haven of a bedroom looks like now, much less who occupies it.
within the last 12 years, ive lost nearly everything. friends, family, pets, possessions; i dont know what keeps me going. for awhile it was nyla, and mom. and now?
im just so tired. i cant even sleep well now that im here. i lay awake for hours, and when i do finally sleep, its in about 2 to 4 hour intervals. i had to take a benadryl last night and it was the first "proper" night of sleep since we've gotten here.
its hard to not feel like i deserve this for whatever reason.
anytime my life is nice im too depressed or anxious to fully appreciate it.
i dont know if genuinely want to die; but i can confidently say i dont want to keep living how my life is now; & i dont see my life changing for the better in any meaningful way anytime soon.
