cxz43
Member
- Feb 16, 2022
- 9
I am now homeless again. isn't it sad that I am a 22-year-old female, and I have been homeless for about 5x now? most of those times of not being homeless were because I was able to make a guy fall in love with me to house me again. it wasn't that I was using them to get away from home, but it was just a perk. I am now engaged but the guy I was with still lived at home, and his drunk druggie mother would sit there and talk shit and treat me like shit. I am a very respectful person, that likes to keep my business to myself but because she complained about being alone all the time I would give her some information about my days and things that are going on. yeah. She used to twist and talk shit about it. - I never thought that someone would still be this miserable at 60, the girl that is engaged to your only son, his first-ever serious girlfriend, soon-to-be wife... (she stopped him from past relationships for years. this poor man didn't have a legit girl till he was 26... bro. I feel so bad for him. his first "girlfriend" he was 14. his mom ended that on him too) but I dunno.. some people are so weird.
but yeah, I've been out and about because of that. I am thankful my fiance stayed a few nights at a motel and paid for the nights for me and didn't let me pay for anything. everyone else would've just turned the other way and allowed me to just be alone during these times, they always did. my fiancé is the only one that stayed with me through this. - but of course, he had to go back to work, and he didn't want to dig too deep into his savings and had to go back home, told me that I might have to stay at friends, shelters or go back to my trash-filled house with my abusive ass family. I have been doing all three, bouncing around every night so far. I hate it. I hate how nowhere feels like home, how I had to make sure that I am making a man happy to have a place to be, to not be alone, to have something as close to a family as I could ever get. talking about family, since being homeless I have not taken my birth control(and prozac.. which is another story) but I have had sex with my fiance a few times as I have completely spaced it because I am so stressed and now I have that to worry about. in a way I hope I am because maybe that will give me a solid reason to stay here, but I don't think I am. I have strictly taken my BC for years at the same time every day, so missing these past few days I doubt it was long enough for my body to ya know. do its thing to get pregnant?
of course, all this shit show had happened the day after I found out that my best friend died from her bulimia and alcohol. something that killed me inside as we both openly struggled from this, and we both didn't stop each other... she was only 33, and she had two boys.. two young little boys... it should've been me... I would have been happy to have ended my life on a good note, and allowed her to live and raise her boys. I am nothing but a disgrace, a fat, ugly worthless bitch..
I don't know if I need to just off myself, or just get sick with my bulimia again. both are constantly on my mind now, and I have now been acting on purging. maybe I should just keep going with that. maybe I should just allow my heart to just to explode as my friends did. I mean, after all, I already have an irreversible heart problem from it. maybe this will be my way, or maybe I will keep going with this till I find a way that is easy and 100% successful enough for me.
I guess time will tell.
and to think.. I was finally really trying to be happy.. for it all to just.. turn to shit..
but yeah, I've been out and about because of that. I am thankful my fiance stayed a few nights at a motel and paid for the nights for me and didn't let me pay for anything. everyone else would've just turned the other way and allowed me to just be alone during these times, they always did. my fiancé is the only one that stayed with me through this. - but of course, he had to go back to work, and he didn't want to dig too deep into his savings and had to go back home, told me that I might have to stay at friends, shelters or go back to my trash-filled house with my abusive ass family. I have been doing all three, bouncing around every night so far. I hate it. I hate how nowhere feels like home, how I had to make sure that I am making a man happy to have a place to be, to not be alone, to have something as close to a family as I could ever get. talking about family, since being homeless I have not taken my birth control(and prozac.. which is another story) but I have had sex with my fiance a few times as I have completely spaced it because I am so stressed and now I have that to worry about. in a way I hope I am because maybe that will give me a solid reason to stay here, but I don't think I am. I have strictly taken my BC for years at the same time every day, so missing these past few days I doubt it was long enough for my body to ya know. do its thing to get pregnant?
of course, all this shit show had happened the day after I found out that my best friend died from her bulimia and alcohol. something that killed me inside as we both openly struggled from this, and we both didn't stop each other... she was only 33, and she had two boys.. two young little boys... it should've been me... I would have been happy to have ended my life on a good note, and allowed her to live and raise her boys. I am nothing but a disgrace, a fat, ugly worthless bitch..
I don't know if I need to just off myself, or just get sick with my bulimia again. both are constantly on my mind now, and I have now been acting on purging. maybe I should just keep going with that. maybe I should just allow my heart to just to explode as my friends did. I mean, after all, I already have an irreversible heart problem from it. maybe this will be my way, or maybe I will keep going with this till I find a way that is easy and 100% successful enough for me.
I guess time will tell.
and to think.. I was finally really trying to be happy.. for it all to just.. turn to shit..
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