Forty-seven years on this Earth and countless experiences that have shaped who I am. The past few have been hard, with the past year being the hardest. Slipping back into a depression this last November, I tried my hardest to stay as positive as possible. The suicidal thoughts crept into my mind and self-talk to push those nagging emotions away. It is no surprise to me that I would find myself feeling the way I do, I have spend more of my life thinking suicide is the answer than believing I have a purpose.
Some days I feel like I have runaway from my problems, not feeling brave enough to face them. Others, I feel confident enough to push forward and rebuild the broken dreams. I have started an online journey with TikTok, hosting a live game show. TikTok has kept me connected to the world after becoming isolated in the country over fifteen hundred miles from what I consider home. I rarely speak with the people I have been most connected with. I have cut all ties with my family and do not know if I ever will repair those relationships.
The overwhelming feeling of freedom when I left New Jersey was liberating and now feels almost like a death sentence. Forty-seven years old and nothing to show for it. No money, little to no possessions, no ties to anything, and living in a home by the grace of people who cared enough to allow me to stay. I used to look at homeless people and wonder "How? How did they get to that place in their lives?" Now, I truly understand. The choices we make can push our lives in a direction that may not ever allow us to truly be free.
Many days, I ponder whether this started when I made the choice to get divorced, or the day I chose to be with Brian, or the day he died, or I decided to make a complaint with the township against my landlord, or when I decided to live with family members, or when I started dating the man who emotionally and mentally abused my for close to three years, or when I decided to go to college instead of working two or three jobs, or was it just a series of unfortunate events combined? Was it my fault? Am I to blame? I take responsibility for my choices, but do the people involved own their own actions in the situations? Why is everything always my fault? Why is everything always on me? Every actions has an equal and opposite reaction, so are my choices the reason I am in this situation? Or are others also responsible for their own actions and reactions to my choices?
I don't know why I stayed in the relationship I was in for three years. My family is angry with me that I did, hypocritical because my mother stayed with my father for close to forty years. My father was not a "bad" man, I almost feel sorry for my parents. Mental health, emotional wellness, and abuse weren't treated the same way. So much has changed since 1977 and I can't totally blame my parents for everything. My parents are a huge part of the reason I lack stability, I know this. I have lived in forty-six places in forty-seven years. I vowed when I was a teenager I wouldn't be like my parents, yet here I am.
Technically homeless, barley making money, and no true prospects of a "real job" in the area I am in living. Do I suck it up and work a retail store for $10 an hour and continue to suffer or do I try to better myself by continuing my education, which is not looking great at this point. I have been making just enough on TikTok to buy some food and necessities and pay a few bills, but nowhere near enough to save and pay everything. I am truly scared and pray most days that I just don't wake up. I don't want to die, but at this point I feel what is the point of living? Am I suicidal? NO, I am just losing hope and faith.
