ArchmagePrincess
Magical Princess of Death
- Aug 31, 2022
- 146
If I had to describe my life in one sentence. It would be; I am always appeasing the mean person in power around me in order to avoid homelessness.
My parents were emotionally abusive and neglectful when I was a kid. I spent most days terrified and sad thinking that was just what life was. I was constantly threatened with no longer having a home, insulted, gas lit into believing none of the harm I was being done was real or legitimate. When I turned 18 I constantly feared being kicked out.
I finally found hope in friends and as I got older, eventually a partner. I figured that my parents' treatment of me didn't reflect the real world. That there could still be love and stability. A home I didn't have to fear losing. I left my parents behind years ago.
It was wonderful while I was able to delude myself that things were okay. They were much better than living with my parents, but my situation hadn't truly changed. I was still under a roof that I could lose at any moment if the person who's name was on the lease decided they didn't like me anymore. A break up would have led to so much more than just heartbreak.
A friend offered me a small amount of help and I was able to stay with them for a short time. During that time I had no car, no coat, no bike, just the drive to walk a couple miles to and from work in as low as -20 degree weather everyday till my skin turned red and my feet felt like they'd been crushed by a hammer.
Before I was able to secure a place of my own, their patience ran out, and I was effectively homeless living with some drug addict I found online who offered a place to stay. Eventually I was able to get a retail job where I kept getting promoted until I was able to afford my own place.
It felt fantastic to had finally done that. But yet again my situation didn't truly change. My co-workers, corporate, boss, and customers alike were pretty horrible to me. Some were very kind, but I'd still go into work everyday not ready to take more insults. If I ever stopped performing above reasonable expectations or stood my ground, I feared I'd be fired. I was yet again stuck in a situation where I have to endure abuse to avoid homelessness.
I couldn't handle having the job for long. My mental state was deteriorating fast. I was constantly forced to work overtime and answer work calls at home, with my finances like a dwindling health bar. Rent and bills did damage to me every month, and I felt like I was slowly dying always on the brink of returning to homelessness. Eventually I found a new partner who offered to support me while I figured things out.
Again, now I'm looking at homelessness in the eyes. I tried different jobs and my emotional state couldn't handle any of them for long. I attempted to get on disability benefits for my mental state only to see a 2-3 year estimate before I could see even a pittance of help.
I keep getting told that there's hope and help out there. Therapists, psychiatrists, friends, partners, they have all tried. They tell me this desire to die in an inherent wrong, a sickness in my head. But I'm starting to not believe that anymore.
Some people just aren't cut out for modern living in the workforce. I know I'm fully capable. I endured much more than any of my other coworkers while I went through the cold to work everyday. The issue isn't my ability, it's becoming my desire to live in these types of situations. Even in my best case scenarios, I spend most of my waking hours exhausting myself to make someone else wealthy, to the point when I get home I have nothing left to give my hobbies or friends.
It's a shame because in many ways I love life. There is so much beauty in nature, art, food, other human beings. I love to cook and watch people's faces light up with joy when I've made something they like. I love taking walks in the park and just watching the chipmunks, feeling at peace for a moment. I love laughing and playing games with friends and feeling genuine sympathy for each others' situations. I love tv shows, movies, and comics that have stories that move my soul.
But many of those moments are few and far between. Locked behind hours of enduring abuse in order to continue to pay bills. Having to go to bed early and ending calls and game nights with the people who make my life worth living in order to get to go to work the next day is devastating to me. I spend more time with coworkers than my own friends and family.
I haven't fully decided whether I want to live or not. But it's hard when I feel like I'm not asking for too much and have been given nothing more than medication and coping skills. All I want is a stable shelter, food, and my own time and energy. But these wants have been seemingly impossible to have all together.
(If you've read this entire thing, thank you. This is mostly just venting, but I'm genuinely at a loss for what to do. So if you have any advice I'll look into it.)
My parents were emotionally abusive and neglectful when I was a kid. I spent most days terrified and sad thinking that was just what life was. I was constantly threatened with no longer having a home, insulted, gas lit into believing none of the harm I was being done was real or legitimate. When I turned 18 I constantly feared being kicked out.
I finally found hope in friends and as I got older, eventually a partner. I figured that my parents' treatment of me didn't reflect the real world. That there could still be love and stability. A home I didn't have to fear losing. I left my parents behind years ago.
It was wonderful while I was able to delude myself that things were okay. They were much better than living with my parents, but my situation hadn't truly changed. I was still under a roof that I could lose at any moment if the person who's name was on the lease decided they didn't like me anymore. A break up would have led to so much more than just heartbreak.
A friend offered me a small amount of help and I was able to stay with them for a short time. During that time I had no car, no coat, no bike, just the drive to walk a couple miles to and from work in as low as -20 degree weather everyday till my skin turned red and my feet felt like they'd been crushed by a hammer.
Before I was able to secure a place of my own, their patience ran out, and I was effectively homeless living with some drug addict I found online who offered a place to stay. Eventually I was able to get a retail job where I kept getting promoted until I was able to afford my own place.
It felt fantastic to had finally done that. But yet again my situation didn't truly change. My co-workers, corporate, boss, and customers alike were pretty horrible to me. Some were very kind, but I'd still go into work everyday not ready to take more insults. If I ever stopped performing above reasonable expectations or stood my ground, I feared I'd be fired. I was yet again stuck in a situation where I have to endure abuse to avoid homelessness.
I couldn't handle having the job for long. My mental state was deteriorating fast. I was constantly forced to work overtime and answer work calls at home, with my finances like a dwindling health bar. Rent and bills did damage to me every month, and I felt like I was slowly dying always on the brink of returning to homelessness. Eventually I found a new partner who offered to support me while I figured things out.
Again, now I'm looking at homelessness in the eyes. I tried different jobs and my emotional state couldn't handle any of them for long. I attempted to get on disability benefits for my mental state only to see a 2-3 year estimate before I could see even a pittance of help.
I keep getting told that there's hope and help out there. Therapists, psychiatrists, friends, partners, they have all tried. They tell me this desire to die in an inherent wrong, a sickness in my head. But I'm starting to not believe that anymore.
Some people just aren't cut out for modern living in the workforce. I know I'm fully capable. I endured much more than any of my other coworkers while I went through the cold to work everyday. The issue isn't my ability, it's becoming my desire to live in these types of situations. Even in my best case scenarios, I spend most of my waking hours exhausting myself to make someone else wealthy, to the point when I get home I have nothing left to give my hobbies or friends.
It's a shame because in many ways I love life. There is so much beauty in nature, art, food, other human beings. I love to cook and watch people's faces light up with joy when I've made something they like. I love taking walks in the park and just watching the chipmunks, feeling at peace for a moment. I love laughing and playing games with friends and feeling genuine sympathy for each others' situations. I love tv shows, movies, and comics that have stories that move my soul.
But many of those moments are few and far between. Locked behind hours of enduring abuse in order to continue to pay bills. Having to go to bed early and ending calls and game nights with the people who make my life worth living in order to get to go to work the next day is devastating to me. I spend more time with coworkers than my own friends and family.
I haven't fully decided whether I want to live or not. But it's hard when I feel like I'm not asking for too much and have been given nothing more than medication and coping skills. All I want is a stable shelter, food, and my own time and energy. But these wants have been seemingly impossible to have all together.
(If you've read this entire thing, thank you. This is mostly just venting, but I'm genuinely at a loss for what to do. So if you have any advice I'll look into it.)
