I can’t even think. I feel dead inside. There’s always a reason to keep me down. SROs are like prisons that you pay market rate apartment rent for, to have a prison cell sized room, be controlled, moniotred, have your belongings rummaged through every othe day, and aren’t allowed to have visitors beyond common areas. Fuck that. I hope I don’t get in. I’m going to put an end to this shit soon.
I don’t even feel as in love as I once did. He kind of pisses me off that he can complain about his life and problems, even posting on Facebook that he wanted to kill himself because disability cut him off, but then he jumps my case when I try to talk to him and he’ll go on endlessly that I’m just not trying. He thinks he’s the only one who’s got it hard in life. I shouldn’t have to hear that shit from him. What part of working my ass off in two jobs is not trying!?!
It’s all for nothing. It’s all a lie. You can’t work hard and make it. There’s too many rules to keep you down. Another one is being homeless. You can’t rent anything if you’re homeless. I jump through all the fucking hoops then get told that I have to currently live at a place that is in my name (in order to have that address on my ID) before I can start renting a different place. They can all go fuck themselves. I wish I had money to go far out of state to die. They can eat shit here.
In other news… I was told to start putting on applications that I work 20 hrs a week with my 2nd job, which means I got the new job. Can you fucking believe I would be an Assistant Program Director of a nonprofit? And that I’d still be homeless and treated like the scum of the earth?!??
I’m done. Fuck it all.