And I am really angry about it. And sad. And defeated.
I am 41 years old as of last month. Before my breakdown 01/2020 I had owned my condo for 5 years. I owned my 2nd car outright (a 2010 work SUV) and had a lease on a 2019 Lexus. I was making very good money at work. I had ZERO credit card debt. I had an 800+ credit score. I had savings. I have a 401K. I had investments. I had been a marketing director at my company for 5+ years highly respected in my field nationally. And I ■■■■■■■ lost everything in a millisecond. And I am SO ■■■■■■■ MAD ABOUT IT. AND IT’S NOT ■■■■■■■ FAIR. And people lose things all the time for a variety of tragic reasons, and sadly, it is just part of life sometimes. Fine. Ok. I get that. But I was born to a 17 year old idiot, was a teenage runaway, death, dysfunction, juvenile hall, rape, high school dropout - name it and it happened in my life. And I STILL made it. I made it out. I went to college and was the 1st to graduate in my family. I became a property owner. I had perfect credit and was responsible and careful. I didn’t have children. I was smart. I educated myself. I blended in with all the normies.
And despite all of my smart choices and my hard work … working FT since I was 16 to take care of myself and pay for school and food and rent. With no help. I still lost everything instantly. Gone. My name. My money. My house. My identity. My whole life - gone. And I don’t see any light at the end of the tunnel to be honest. I really, really don’t.
It has felt to me like I had a demonic cursed placed upon me since the day of my breakdown. And my delusion/god told me I was possessed by a demon. They did an exorcism on me in the mental hospital. Twice. Or at least that’s how I remember it.
And now I sit her almost two years later and my life is still - and will be for a long, long, long time - falling apart. I ONLY two weeks ago even started entertaining the idea that I have a mental illness and might not actually be cursed. So that is going to be a blast to untangle in therapy for however long at $200 an hour that I don’t have.
I can’t work because I’m on such a short fuse that if you so much as say something rude to me I snap tell you to go ■■■■ yourself. Strangers, family, my boss - I don’t seem to care these days. I didn’t speak to you - don’t speak to me. So yeah, I tried to go to work in July and my boss was a dick and didn’t appreciate me saying so. I got fired after two months. It probably would have been sooner if he hadn’t been on vacation. I tried though. I tried to get a job doing door to door sales, but I suck at sales apparently. Plus, I don’t really like people so that was probably a stupid career exploration. Don’t know what the hell I am going to do long-term on this and I only have another year of savings and then I’ll be homeless. My PTSD is so severe that I can’t be without my dog. He was literally all I was left with … how could I ever leave him
My current apartment is a vacation rental that I have to move out of at the end of the month. I can come back again in March, but I don’t really have anywhere to go for 90 days. Tick tock … tick tock. December 31st is right around the corner. Sigh. Time to move again. This will be my 42nd move in my life. Exhausted. I’m tired. The idea that my life is maybe only halfway over and I have to continue with this buy a couch/loose a couch dance is appalling to me. I am sick of losing all my ■■■■ and having to move. I just want to be quiet and at peace.
I have 10K in unpaid medical bills from two psychiatric stays last year. Right when I had my breakdown, and got fired, and left all my stuff and drove across the country in hotels with a suitcase and my dog as my only possessions, I also had MAJOR credit card fraud and bank fraud - simultaneously within days (sure, I wasn’t cursed. K) - so my finances got all screwed up and I couldn’t handle sorting it out and also didn’t care because I thought the world was ending, it so my credit it still screwed up. I basically live off my credit cards and my remaining savings. But it’s not much and it’s not enough to fix all of my problems.
My car - this 2019 Lexus is a lease that I owed 25K on. It expired a few weeks ago and they want it back or they want 25K. And if they see this car, they won’t want it back. The entire car has been keyed, on every surface, and it has body damage from an accident, and the seats and interior ceiling are slashed and sliced because that’s right - I thought the government was listening to me and I was expressing to them how pissed off I was about it. Yep. Because that’s my kind of angry. I get crazy.
Oh, and my dog is in active heart failure. My sweet, sweet son. My puppy. My life. My heart. My everything. The ONLY thing I live for. The ONLY thing I have in this world that brings me joy and calm and love. And I don’t think I will make it through that. And it also doesn’t feel like I was meant to. It feels like this is the grand finale of life hurting Mollie and we’re just about to wrap it up.
I’m so sick of this place. It is NOTHING but pain. Always. Unbearable pain. I feel like I get constantly emotionally electrocuted and my only reason for breath will soon be gone. I will not handle it well when he died, and I already know that i don’t know what to do.
Thank you for letting me talk.
Mollie n Bax