and I tried to sleep alone, but I couldn't do it.
It's a long story as to how I ended up in the situation in which I am now. I don't expect anyone to understand it, especially as I, myself, only understand part of it. It's a huge mess, but the more difficult part will be getting out of it. So, now it's a matter of figuring out where to start....
The best way to preface this is with this entry. For those disinclined to read so much, the main points of interest: my mother's been dating, and specifically this one guy named Gary; I've been running my ass off to support my father, who's also suffering the effects of a broken home and the recession; I've lost and found alliances; and, of course, the usual emotional turmoil that comes of being a socially isolated person going through the wild changes that come during that painful stage of morphing from child to adult. It's rather boring, in a way.
Since then, I've moved. My hand was forced by my mother, with whom I had lived previously. Too many factors were involved in the culmination, and there are no clear-cut villains or heroes in this tale. My sister (who also was living with me and my mother) and I both were given a notice that the rent lease would be up within a month, the power and the water would be shut off within the week, and that we were on our own. (To be honest, I don't really understand or know all of the reasons that my mother did what she did, but to be fair, it takes two to tango, and we all were at fault for it, myself included.) Without much of an option, I had to move in with my dad. It would have been stable, it would have been so much better, had it not been for the fact that he had not had a stable job for a long time before then, and still doesn't really have a stable source of income. We all moved into our old house (that in itself is a contentious move, as the house had been filed under bankruptcy with threats of foreclosure), and I thought then that surely, maybe, I could get on my feet while I lived there for at least a few months.
I hadn't talked to my mother since that one night when she left both me and my sister alone in that townhouse condo. I was exhausted emotionally, teetering on the edge of depression (which I still believe I am, but I've learned to stop myself from falling into that trap again). I still had my job twenty miles away from where this house is, I still had my car-- both of those gave me hope enough to carry on in this situation. (A note about the car itself: I had had to replace the engine in it three years ago, I have had to replace both a radiator and transmission in it, the alignment is off, and my tires have suffered because of that.) I'd saved my money-- only for it to go towards gas to get to and from work, and not only for myself. I was-- and am still-- the only one with a car that must be used amongst three people. As much as I've made my case about everyone else pitching in for the outrageous gas I've paid, it's been met with lukewarm reception at best. At worst, it reminds me of why it's tough to live in this condition when everyone is poor. I've had many arguments not only with my sister but also with my father, almost all of which I've lost and had to pay the price. And yet, still, I had some hope that I could carry on somehow-- I could save my money, I could get those tires for my car, I could get whatever else that plagued my car fixed, I could save my money towards means with which I could get my own place.
I didn't realise then that I had taken on much more than I could handle with my meagre salary. As much as I didn't want to, Saturday, I finally broke down and called my mother for help. I'm still a bit surprised that it wasn't as nasty a confrontation as I had imagined; she and I talked, she and I figured out what precisely was not working in this mess I've gotten into, and she and I have tentatively made up. But that's just the start, and who knows what else will happen after this.
The situation as it stands now is as such. My own car needs a new starter in it after I had just had another front transmission seal replaced on it-- luckily, there was a means to get the part and it's currently in my possession. My father is the one to replace the starter-- it's not a complicated job, really. My sister's car also needs an engine in it (thank God, she had bought her engine previously and now it only needs to be replaced) and then tires. I've been broke-- paying the water bill by myself, which took nearly all of my weekly pay cheque to do so, on top of paying for parts for my car and the gas with which to drive it. As much as I've tried to save my money, it's gone before I can do anything about it. Looking back and actually seeing this experience in black-type-on-white-background, I do wonder how it is I've kept relatively sane. I wonder how it is that I will continue to keep my sanity, should I stay here. And so, after several months with the vague feeling that I should not be here, I've come to the concrete resolution to leave it and make it on my own, as I should have done a long, long time ago.
Just an hour and a half ago, plagued by the worry that, perhaps, I may not be able to get that starter, I called my mother again. She offered me a somewhat more concrete plan: get my car running again, pack what it is that I can pack in my car, go to work tomorrow, and then take residence in temporary, weekly housing close to where I work. The only thing that stops me is that, with my car the only one functioning and my sister's car not even completed, it would feel wrong to me to leave them both to fend for themselves. I haven't told them at all that this is my plan, but of course, it is probably for the best. After I am sure that my sister's car is running, I will leave. I will take only what is necessary; the rest, I can get at my leisure. Then it will be time to think of more permanent housing, a more permanent solution, and then I will be truly independent, and probably all the better for it. Because I can't continue as I am now. I can't keep doing this, else I'm certain to go insane or worse. I love my family dearly, but at present, we're all drowning, and my father and sister are clinging to me as a flotation device, which only serves to drown me even further. We're all collectively fucking each other up while doing what it is we think would save all of us. It's time for that to stop.
I don't know precisely when I'll leave; as I said, I should leave tonight, but I couldn't stand to live with the guilt. God willing, my sister's car will be back to functionality within a week. I don't know when I'll be back. Internet access is grand, it really is, but it's a luxury, and one that I may not be able to afford for a while, especially while I seek stable footing for myself. It will hurt at first-- profound change as this does come at a price-- but it will be all for the better.
And I have to keep reminding myself of that.
To all of you who have read this-- to all of you who have heard me, to all of you who have known me and know me now, I want to say that I love all of you for who you are and for just being there, even if it's been listening to me, talking with me, or simply brightening my days. You're all wonderful, and I doubt I would have had the strength to carry on if I hadn't known each and every one of you. Don't worry too much about me; just have faith, and carry on with your own lives. I will be back, don't ever doubt that.
It's time to do what needs to be done.
The best way to preface this is with this entry. For those disinclined to read so much, the main points of interest: my mother's been dating, and specifically this one guy named Gary; I've been running my ass off to support my father, who's also suffering the effects of a broken home and the recession; I've lost and found alliances; and, of course, the usual emotional turmoil that comes of being a socially isolated person going through the wild changes that come during that painful stage of morphing from child to adult. It's rather boring, in a way.
Since then, I've moved. My hand was forced by my mother, with whom I had lived previously. Too many factors were involved in the culmination, and there are no clear-cut villains or heroes in this tale. My sister (who also was living with me and my mother) and I both were given a notice that the rent lease would be up within a month, the power and the water would be shut off within the week, and that we were on our own. (To be honest, I don't really understand or know all of the reasons that my mother did what she did, but to be fair, it takes two to tango, and we all were at fault for it, myself included.) Without much of an option, I had to move in with my dad. It would have been stable, it would have been so much better, had it not been for the fact that he had not had a stable job for a long time before then, and still doesn't really have a stable source of income. We all moved into our old house (that in itself is a contentious move, as the house had been filed under bankruptcy with threats of foreclosure), and I thought then that surely, maybe, I could get on my feet while I lived there for at least a few months.
I hadn't talked to my mother since that one night when she left both me and my sister alone in that townhouse condo. I was exhausted emotionally, teetering on the edge of depression (which I still believe I am, but I've learned to stop myself from falling into that trap again). I still had my job twenty miles away from where this house is, I still had my car-- both of those gave me hope enough to carry on in this situation. (A note about the car itself: I had had to replace the engine in it three years ago, I have had to replace both a radiator and transmission in it, the alignment is off, and my tires have suffered because of that.) I'd saved my money-- only for it to go towards gas to get to and from work, and not only for myself. I was-- and am still-- the only one with a car that must be used amongst three people. As much as I've made my case about everyone else pitching in for the outrageous gas I've paid, it's been met with lukewarm reception at best. At worst, it reminds me of why it's tough to live in this condition when everyone is poor. I've had many arguments not only with my sister but also with my father, almost all of which I've lost and had to pay the price. And yet, still, I had some hope that I could carry on somehow-- I could save my money, I could get those tires for my car, I could get whatever else that plagued my car fixed, I could save my money towards means with which I could get my own place.
I didn't realise then that I had taken on much more than I could handle with my meagre salary. As much as I didn't want to, Saturday, I finally broke down and called my mother for help. I'm still a bit surprised that it wasn't as nasty a confrontation as I had imagined; she and I talked, she and I figured out what precisely was not working in this mess I've gotten into, and she and I have tentatively made up. But that's just the start, and who knows what else will happen after this.
The situation as it stands now is as such. My own car needs a new starter in it after I had just had another front transmission seal replaced on it-- luckily, there was a means to get the part and it's currently in my possession. My father is the one to replace the starter-- it's not a complicated job, really. My sister's car also needs an engine in it (thank God, she had bought her engine previously and now it only needs to be replaced) and then tires. I've been broke-- paying the water bill by myself, which took nearly all of my weekly pay cheque to do so, on top of paying for parts for my car and the gas with which to drive it. As much as I've tried to save my money, it's gone before I can do anything about it. Looking back and actually seeing this experience in black-type-on-white-background, I do wonder how it is I've kept relatively sane. I wonder how it is that I will continue to keep my sanity, should I stay here. And so, after several months with the vague feeling that I should not be here, I've come to the concrete resolution to leave it and make it on my own, as I should have done a long, long time ago.
Just an hour and a half ago, plagued by the worry that, perhaps, I may not be able to get that starter, I called my mother again. She offered me a somewhat more concrete plan: get my car running again, pack what it is that I can pack in my car, go to work tomorrow, and then take residence in temporary, weekly housing close to where I work. The only thing that stops me is that, with my car the only one functioning and my sister's car not even completed, it would feel wrong to me to leave them both to fend for themselves. I haven't told them at all that this is my plan, but of course, it is probably for the best. After I am sure that my sister's car is running, I will leave. I will take only what is necessary; the rest, I can get at my leisure. Then it will be time to think of more permanent housing, a more permanent solution, and then I will be truly independent, and probably all the better for it. Because I can't continue as I am now. I can't keep doing this, else I'm certain to go insane or worse. I love my family dearly, but at present, we're all drowning, and my father and sister are clinging to me as a flotation device, which only serves to drown me even further. We're all collectively fucking each other up while doing what it is we think would save all of us. It's time for that to stop.
I don't know precisely when I'll leave; as I said, I should leave tonight, but I couldn't stand to live with the guilt. God willing, my sister's car will be back to functionality within a week. I don't know when I'll be back. Internet access is grand, it really is, but it's a luxury, and one that I may not be able to afford for a while, especially while I seek stable footing for myself. It will hurt at first-- profound change as this does come at a price-- but it will be all for the better.
And I have to keep reminding myself of that.
To all of you who have read this-- to all of you who have heard me, to all of you who have known me and know me now, I want to say that I love all of you for who you are and for just being there, even if it's been listening to me, talking with me, or simply brightening my days. You're all wonderful, and I doubt I would have had the strength to carry on if I hadn't known each and every one of you. Don't worry too much about me; just have faith, and carry on with your own lives. I will be back, don't ever doubt that.
It's time to do what needs to be done.