Homeless

Sitting here at the Laundromat. I fucking hate this place. I hate waiting for my clothes, I hate loading them up and taking them somewhere to do them. I miss MY washer and dryer, the convenience of doing laundry whenever I want, and I was spoiled by the high efficiency. I also hate I have to pay $15-$20 each week to do laundry, yet this was supposed to be ‘included’ in the utilities I paid..along with internet at my house that I don’t have. Not necessarily a fan of the people who come here either. If I was pregnant or brought all 10 of my 1/2naked kids with me, I wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb. Or if I was a Asian. Well, I guess I don’t always come alone… I bring Jinx with me.

laundromat

I want my washer and dryer back. I want a kitchen. I want to be able to use the internet when I want to…and not rack up a giant bill on my cell phone because I have to use a hotspot service. I miss having a bedroom. I want to feel like I have a home again. I can sleep in the back of my truck and feel just as comfortable as I do when I’m at my ‘place of sleeping and business’. This is because I don’t have a ‘home’. It doesn’t matter where I am, I feel the same. I’m sick of feeling like this. I’m so close. I’m trying to hang in, but it’s like a carrot being dangled in front of me, and instead of teaching me to be patient and be strong, it’s teasing me and pissing me off and draining all my energy. When I go to reach for it, it’s taken away and the world laughs at me. Yeah, I know, the world isn’t out to get me. Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.

I have a lot more than some people, so I feel like I should be grateful for what I have. I’m trying, trust me. I’m trying to remember what I felt like when I wrote my last post. I’m trying to get back there and hang on to that feeling. Because I feel like I’ve lost it and I’ve fallen into the trap I’ve been trying so hard to avoid. Yep, I’m there. I tried to fight it and mentally will myself to not be here…and I think I did postpone it for a long time. But now, here I am.

I’ve realized it’s not about WHAT I have, but more about MENTALLY where I am. It’s hard to explain. I have a place to live, but I’m homeless. Why? It’s not mine, I’m not safe or comfortable there, my livelihood is threatened pretty regularly in this place, and I am paying a shit ton of money to have even that. I feel robbed, lied to, taken advantage of, and I feel like in many ways, I AM homeless. I can have a roof over my head in a lot of places. I feel like I am living in my workshop. What’s it all for? What’s the payoff for what I’m doing to myself? I feel like it’s coming, and I’ve literally sacrificed my stable home for it. I took a risk. I weighed it, and a bunch of things went wrong that led me to this situation. So now I’m here… down to the final weeks before my next big adventure starts and I’m crashing.

I guess I’m finally feeling the effects of the go-go-go mentality I’ve had for months. I’m losing it. I have an awesome support system, I have people who will help me this time, I have a plan…. So why am I fading now? I’m hanging in, but I just want to curl up in a corner and watch the world keep turning without me. I won’t… because I don’t have a choice. But I’m also not going to be happy about it. I’ve noticed I have less motivation to do the things I’ve worked so hard for. Like training for my race this weekend. I should really train… like at all this week. Or doing dishes… yeah, I should do those at some point. Whatever, why? For who? I don’t care. Leave them.

I should be researching sound proofing, landscaping, fencing, costs on how much it’s going to take to refinish flooring in the barn and putting up walls. I should be inputting my clients’ paperwork into my computer, getting my phone fixed (broke it … again), being proactive in this particular living situation that is now urgently pressing upon me. But I don’t have it in me. So I’m here, at the Laundromat, doing laundry because that’s productive right? There. I’m doing something. I got out of bed, and I’m doing laundry. Bare minimum to keep me going.

I go from handling stress well to it all blowing up in my face. I got it, really, I’m fine, I can do everything by myself all the time because I’m fucking super woman…Just kidding, I’m not and I don’t have a handle on anything, actually. There’s no build up, it’s just one minute I’m fine, and the next I’m not. Yeah, it’ll pass, I know. I don’t feel like I’m being dramatic; feelings are feelings, and this is what I feel. I’m stuck because I don’t have time to feel like this, and all my energy should be spent on my business, and fighting for my living situation. But I feel like if I don’t stop, I am going to burn out. I’m at the point where I feel it happening already, and I don’t see a break in sight. I don’t see a good stopping place, and in the near/immediate future, I’m actually starting a much bigger project. I feel like I need to get out and run away for a few days. I tried to over the weekend, but it just wasn’t enough. I need some actual recharge time… oh wait, I forgot. I’m a business owner, and a dog trainer no less. That doesn’t happen. I gave that up. I’ll quit bitching now and buck up and do what I’m supposed to do. Which is doing fucking laundry.

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