So it’s a couple years on from when I realized I couldn’t keep up with my business anymore and it’s still pretty awful. One of the most difficult parts is that my family is… sort of unsympathetic. My kid is barely an adult and currently upset that he has to work to pay for everything that isn’t the roof over his head or the food in his mouth. Dick.
And my boyfriend is barely an adult either, lol. I’m 37 and he’s 26 and he doesn’t really understand what it’s like to have your options slowly whittled down. Yet.
Is that weird to say? Shouldn’t I just be happy he doesn’t have an ex-wife and child support payments?
The whole young and not-bitter-yet thing is awesome but the whole young and no-idea-what’s-waiting part kind of sucks.
But it’s okay, I’ve got arthritis and he’s getting bald. That seems pretty even, right?
Anyhow, the alcoholism is still around – not as bad because it was making me gain weight and that’s not okay so I had to cut back – and I’m still sad a lot of the time. Especially since the alcohol is what makes moving my fingers possible without pain, lol. And TV possible to watch. Jebus, most of what normal people do is super hard without beer.
I’ve also had some health problems in the last half of this year, and they’re mildly scary. I say mildly, but it freaks me out more than other people seem to think it should? Part of it is just that… look, I’m getting older. My time to make big changes is running out, and no matter how many opportunities I chase I’m not getting anywhere with even the small changes. I’ve had the same crap job for almost 7 years. I apply for better jobs and get emails back saying they’re not interested, or no reply at all. So I will apparently never stop making not quite enough to pay rent. The boyfriend finally (and with my full support) wised up and got out of retail, but he also took a job that pays more than $10k less which has effectively cut off the stay-home-mom option, and that’s the only way I’m having a kid, if I even can after they finish cutting up my lady bits to get rid of the stuff that’s trying to be cancer. Whittling away, right? Can’t have a baby, can’t have hands that work, can’t have another beer, can’t have pants that fit, can’t have hopes and dreams, can’t have a hobby, can’t stand it.
I should probably be done whining now. My life is, from the outside, pretty great. I have a steady job with good benefits, the prettiest cat ever (see my IG,) and a lovable family. My kid has a steady job, no substance abuse issues, and no criminal record. My boyfriend has a steady job, questionable benefits (his bff works for the same company and is having trouble with their health insurance saying an emergency appendectomy is “elective” surgery,) and the best personality I’ve found in a human person.
20 years ago, when I was 17 and in high school, I honestly thought I would probably die by the age of ~22 of suicide or a drug overdose or a combo of the two. My main goal in life was to move out of my parents’ house so they/my brother wouldn’t be first to find the body. I’m glad I didn’t go that direction, but the life I have now is what made that whole dying young thing look attractive in the first place. I’d hoped that having my shit together financially and personally would help, but it just seems to have opened up an empty space where new goals should be.