IF YOU DO NOT CARE FOR RAMPANT CURSING AND SELF-PITYING...DO NOT READ THIS POST. I'M SERIOUS. THE 'F' WORD IS USED IN ABUNDANCE. AND I'M IN A BAD WAY.
Life fucking sucks.
You know my dream? The one where I was able to write books, build a career, and be happy in general? That's been postponed. I've now been told to get a job. A real job. A job that has some considerable financial contribution to this household. Because what I'm doing now is such a waste of time.
I wouldn't have quit my other job if I knew this is where I would be 3-4 years later. And it just pisses me the fuck off. Never mind that I'm hurt. No. Never mind that. Never mind I trusted this person to keep their word. Fuck a bunch of that, too. Because times change. And I'm expected to flex/bend/whatever to keep the status quo. I don't have a choice really.
Do I wish that my books generated a sizable income? Well. Fuck yes. I suppose I do. Was I working my ass into the ground to achieve that? Well. Fuck yes I was.
And now that I've pulled baby chicken out to homsechool, I'll be losing myself once again to everyone else's wants. Fuck writing. Fuck even having time for writing.
I'm so damn miserable right now that I can't even cry.
Oh...and my personal relationship that I don't want to lose for anything? That's fallen to shit, too. I'm seriously about to lose my fucking mind.
Why is it that misery really DOES love company?
It needs to get the fuck out of my head and heart and just get the hell on. I can't take much more.
3 months ago