So as of last night, I’m homeless.
No like, for real.
Okay no, not for real. I could always move back home, but I’ll be damned if I move back home. I will couch hop before I move back home. Moving home is having to admit that my ex-roommate was right, as well as everyone back home who said I would end up coming back. The only thing about that though is they thought I would come because I missed it, not because my roommate threw a fit and kicked me out.
Side note: I do miss home sometimes because I miss my family and the woods and the few friends I still keep in contact with who live there, I just love it here more.
Just thinking about the fit she threw makes me laugh somehow. I’m homeless with no car because of my car accident a month ago and somehow, I’m finding ways to laugh and find things funny. Maybe it’s because my life is a joke, I’m not sure.
I’m kidding guys. I don’t think my life is a joke, but I do think that God or whoever is trying to teach me something through tough love. I find myself looking up at the sky and just thinking “what the hell is happening and why are you doing this to me? What did I do this time?”
Another side note: I only say “look up” when I talk about speaking with God or whoever because I don’t know where he lives and I was raised primarily around Christians so looking up toward the sky, toward “Heaven”, is always my first instinct.
I feel like I’m blabbing on, let’s find some actual writing structure, shall we? And also, an explanation.
I live in Saint Petersburg Florida. I love it here, very much. It’s such a huge change to what I’m used to, which is a small town surrounded by trees and cow pastures, but I think I’ve adjusted well. I was staying with a friend of mine until I could find a place of my own and until the restaurant I work at gets busier. We just opened our doors three months ago and it’s not busy season for restaurants so it’s still pretty slow. Regardless, I was paying a small amount for rent because she knew I was trying to save, buying my own groceries, and helping her with small things like buying toilet paper or grocery bags when she needed the help.
Some stuff went down and we started arguing. I won’t delve into that very much because it’s a little too personal, but we had a falling out and things were never the same. Yesterday, she kicked me out.
Strangely I’m not super worried about it, which confuses me. I know that I have amazing friends who know what’s going on and they don’t mind me staying with them temporarily, so I’m not worried about where I’ll sleep or shower. I still have an income so I can eat and give my friends gas money, seeing as how I don’t have a car still due to my car accident.
Guys, it’s HARD. It’s so hard to make it out here. I think a lot of millennials can agree maybe or maybe I’m overdramatizing my situation and there’s a simple solution that I just can’t see yet because I have rose colored glasses on. Maybe I should move back home for a while until I have a more stable lifestyle. Maybe I need to go back to having a regular full-time job that I‘m bored with after a month. Honestly, that’s probably the most logical thing to do at this point, but it wouldn’t make me happy. It would actually most likely send me back into depression, and that’s not a place I want to go back to.
Sometimes when I talk to my friends about this or even sitting here writing all of this down I feel like I’m complaining and I feel bad about it. I feel like I could be doing so much better in this life. Then I think “wow, I’m ALREADY 23, I need to get my shit together, man.” and then I shake my head and realize I’m ONLY 23. I’m still so young and I think I can afford to let my life fall apart for a bit. I’m still trying though. I’m looking for a second job to bring in more income so I can continue to look for a place to rent. I have amazing friends, one of them is my future roommate. I still make time to write and read and go out and just make myself happy. At this point, that’s all I can do. I just have to keep moving forward. Just because life sucks right now and it looks like I’m failing, isn’t a reason to give up, go back to my dad’s house, sit in my room and pity myself. What will that do? Absolutely nothing.
I have to keep moving forward. I can stop and realize that this shit is fucking hard, pardon my French, but it’s not going to kill me. Everything that is happening in my life right now is teaching me lessons that I have to learn in order to be smarter in the future, and a better person.
I guess the point I’m trying to make is that life sucks sometimes. And shit happens. And you WILL get knocked down. I think one of the main lessons I’m learning right now is that you have to accept that you will fail. One of my greatest fears in this life is failing and I always try my hardest to succeed. But, life being life, I still fail. My problem, though, is that when I fail, I tend to curl up in the corner of that little room in my brain and I coddle myself and pity myself and eat a bunch of ice cream. I also listen to a bunch of sad music and I really let myself fall into the pit of my depression. I sit there and think, “it’s okay to let yourself break down and fall apart,” because IT IS. But not every time you fail. What I’ve learned is that if you let yourself break and crumble every time you want to, it won’t ever stop breaking and crumbling. I never really take the time to analyze what happened in a situation, what went wrong, and what I can do better next time. I’m trying to do that this time though, because guess what guys: I FAILED.
Oh and guess what else, it’s OKAY.
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