Hi there, stranger!
I wish to share this with you.
You see, I am a young lady in UK, with a backstory going back to a small Baltic country in Europe. But here’s not the story about that.
The story here is about when things don’t go the way we plan them, or the way we wish for them to go.
This somehow lately happens a lot. And the top of the whole mess is about housing issue. Every time I come to the point where things brighten up – something goes “whack” and screws up. Even now – staying in a place that in a way belongs to a “family” member and yet – facing the endless nagging and a lot of “you better move out fast” because they have their own shenanigans.
I absolutely don’t like when this “poop” happens. It’s when you are told that “yes, you can stay here for as long as it’s needed” (for the reason I was unemployed, seeking for something – and even the place that I’m in now – it was hard to find), and then all of a sudden (the NEXT day after my birthday) – I’m told I have to move out in 2 weeks. Well, with great help of a parent – made it already to 2 months here – because I am working for a month now – and my salary is not as much as it “could” be – but you do get that being at work that is Part Time – does not really pay much.
Now I’m endlessly repeated to “find something for new year” – because most likely after my first salary at the end of December (day before new year) I’ll be requested to get out.
Every time I sort out something – it comes to someone try and screw it up a lot.
And every time this happens – every single time – it throws me off badly.
For the simple reason that – I am really emotional person. I take things too close to heart. I truly worry about everything. I am always heavily judging myself. I beat myself emotionally over everything. I am not perfect. I am an emotionally damaged human being. And that thing is from childhood.
Every time it comes to me and to this “worrisome” troubles – I run away into writing. It can be this – me pouring my soul out, or my fiction, or pretty much anything else.
I love writing. I’d love to spend more time on writing. This is the only salvation I had since childhood.
So even now – when life is trying to kick me in the gutter – I pull up and write. And write. Write. It really does help. It really does.
And yes, I’ll get better. That’s what I do, but to my misfortune – not all the time I can open up to such moments of weakness and let my worries out.
I know that many others have different worries of their own. But we’re not really there to suffer – we will all, that are down and beaten, we WILL get up and fight. Because that’s what we do.