Thursday, April 28, 2016

to everything there is a season

Y'all are amazing. Really truly. 

I'm not going to shoot myself, I promise. If I did, my mother would throw my cats into the first kill-shleter she could find, and I cannot live (or die) knowing that would happen to Harleyquinn and Poison Ivy. They're my babies and I live for them. 



Stepmom is coming with me on Sunday to check out the apartment again. She's one of the fussiest people I know when it comes to living spaces, so I figure I will get the most critical unbiased opinion from her. Despite many issues I have had with Stepmom in the past, she has been one of my biggest sources of support in recent months, so I trust her opinion. 

The commute time from this apartment to work does not bother me in the slightest. Driving is one of my favourite things ever. And I did the hour+ commute for a year when I lived in the last apartment. It never bothered me. On the contrary, I actually enjoyed the long drive. It's a scenic drive, and I get at least two hours a day to blast my music. 

I can keep up a search for a job nearer the apartment and if I find a good one, I'll take it. To be honest, I'd rather drive an hour+ both ways to my job than continue living in Bergen County. I'd rather live closer to my closest family and friends than live closer to my job. 

I just worry about making the wrong decision. My life has been one wrong decision after another. I don't want to add to the pile. 

So for now I'm just trying to breathe. To not sink into despair. 

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven. 

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

This is me just thinking out loud.

...so feel free to skip it. 


I saw the apartment yesterday, instead of Sunday, because I wanted to see how long it would take me to get there if I left straight from work. I hit more than the usual traffic, and got there in about an hour and 20 minutes. 

I drove back to the office afterwards, to test the distance going a slightly different route. An hour and eight minutes. 

I am totally ok with that, but I have to factor in the 120 miles of driving every day, at least as far as fuel costs (I'm estimating $90 per month, a 'month' being 4 weeks) and car maintenance, which will need to be done more often than it is now. 

I really liked the apartment. A little small, but then again the lady living in it now has so much stuff everywhere it probably looked smaller than it is. Her son just moved in with her and so she is moving into the larger apartment next to it, because she does not want to leave the building. She's been there for 3 years. 

The landlord was really nice. He said he's the type who fixes problems immediately, and the tenant in the apartment I looked at confirmed this to be true. (And I'm also going to presume it is because she wants to keep living in the building.)

I am in love with the location of the apartment. It is 20 minutes from everything, surrounded by rolling green hills and farmland. Like holy crap is that drive gorgeous. 

So factoring in rent, utilities (heat and elec. on the same bill, the tenant and landlord both said separately that it averaged out at $90/month, which means I will probably end up with a lower bill, but I used $90 for my spreadsheet anyway), travelling costs, and all my other expenses (cat food, car insurance, cell phone, internet, music lessons, hair bleaching, car payment, loan payment, psychiatrist, and crazy pills), I'll be left with about $170 per week for food and other household stuffs. 

I can do that. It won't be easy, and I'll probably have to cut back on a lot of luxuries, but I can do it. 

But I'm not sure if I should. 

I've been getting a pretty strong message from above that I should stay put. It's frustrating. It's infuriating. It's killing me slowly, but I'm still trying to listen. God's not subtle when I try to ignore Him. Seriously. Mold, bugs, pestilence, car-totaling accident, major hassles where there should have been none. 

But how the heck do I know when I should stop staying put? The last apartment I looked at was easy--the landlord decided to accept another tenant. And I had prayed that if that apartment was not the right choice, then please Lord don't give me a choice and let them give the apartment to someone else. 

With this apartment, I'm pretty sure I'll get it if I call the landlord back and say I want it. 

I don't know. What I do know is that I have been unraveling--slowly at first and now faster. I'm drinking too much. I'm crying myself to sleep most nights. I'm not really eating anything unless I have to (i.e., in front of people). I'm self-harming again, and far too often. Each week life gets harder and I get worse, and most days I have to really struggle to find a reason to get out of bed in the morning. I hate living here with my mother and I don't know how much longer I can take it before I put a bullet in my head. 

But I don't know if this is the time to leave, or if this is the home I should be moving into.