More griping about my life Dreamed 5186 days ago | | 342 words

For weeks now, I’ve been trying to shake the depression. Shake the feeling that everything is wrong and it’s all fucked up. I can’t seem to get away from it. It’s sitting on my head holding me under the water and I can’t breathe anymore…

Everything is breaking… digital camera, hard drive, car… Got a new car, a pretty new car. 2001 Ford Taurus. Black with gray insides. It makes me happy. It makes me want to drive again. As much as I loved the BBC Ghettoblaster, it was getting to the point where even driving it was making me sad. Its advanced state of brokeness was getting too much for me.

I feel empty. Numb. Too much travel out of town makes me insane. I don’t feel like I have a home anymore. It’s all gone. It’s never hit me so hard as it did today. Berryville is not home. One home is sold, one home is disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable. The people there that made it home are gone. Far flung to obscurity, or New Jersey.

Virginia Beach is not home, it’s the closest thing I’ve got right now…

While everything there is alien, having never actually lived there for any length of time, but it’s comfortable, it has the comfortableness of what a home should be. The stress is gone, and it’s just comfortable mentally and physically.

What will Manassas bring? New people, new friends? New experiences, certainly.

Everything is so up in the air right now…

I have nowhere to live.
Though I do have a car, and an apartment I must vacate at the end of the month.

I have a job. I hope, up there waiting for me. Even that seems to be under some amount of uncertainty right now. All these things I was led to believe would be worked out, have not been. Despite my asking, prompting and offering to help since it is my deal, nothing.

I am a nomad.

I only exist inside myself.

I hate this.

Depression, uncertainty, sadness, exhaustion…

This is what I have become.

and I hate me.

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