Temporary writing hiatus READ THIS · 3:46pm Sep 25th, 2013
I really do fucking hate my life sometimes. I'll try to make this as concise as possible and keep the bitching to a minimum again. For the, oh, 12 of you, that decided to read my last post, you know that I get internet through a mobile hotspot on a phone that isn't even mine. That get's iffy sometimes (to put it nicely).
How about I bitch about the living conditions I have to deal with hm? Well for starters, I'm 19 years old at the moment, and obviously don't have a home of my own. I can't live with my mother, not because she's a cunt mind you, because her husband is a cunt (who I am going to murder, slowly, and painfully). Oh yeah, so is my sister, who also lives with my mother. I live with my father (much easier to get along with). The problem lies there: we're homeless. Because my dad can't work, he couldn't manage enough money to pay bills. Since the government is a bunch of jackasses that will give disability pay to people still able to work, and not a man that has no cartilage between any given joint and is therefore unable to work anywhere (that would be my father) he's flat broke. Before you say anything, I can't find work either.
So we're living in his "friend's" basement. This "friend" is a free-loader in his own fucking home. Somehow, despite the fact that he does have a job, he manages to get a homeless crippled man that he's supposed to be helping to pay his bills and buy him food. The only other reason he let's us stay is because of the pain my dad lives with. No, not because this "friend" has sympathy for him or something silly like that. No, it's because my dad is prescribed professional grade narcotics as pain killers, and this "friend" likes these pills. (As a foot note he smokes weed too, but I do that shit so I really couldn't care less.)
All this has been going on the past few months, but now it's gotten to the point where my hourly fantasy of disemboweling my step-father has changed to disemboweling this "friend" (again, to put it nicely). Did I mention we have two dogs? Pitbulls actually. One's the mother, and the other is her now nine month old son (brain-dead little shit I tell ya). Well, he doesn't like the dog (yet his cat can shit, piss, and puke all over the house and that doesn't need to be cleaned up or addressed). Now, I will say the younger pitbull is not that smart, but he's a puppy. He is, however, smart enough to know who he shouldn't like, so while this "friend" and my father were arguing again (I'll get to why in a minute) the young pup decided to piss on this "friend's" work clothes right in front of him. (I wish I'd been there to see that.) It is of course his own fault for treating the dogs like shit and threatening to kill and/or beat them whenever they so much as bark once and being a general asshole.
This is all leading to my final point, and the actual purpose of this journal. Now I know most of you wouldn't call that "short" by any means, but believe me when I say I left out a lot. I live in the basement; in my own cornered off area with plenty of room and privacy. This is just how I like it. I can write all my stories, watch and/or read "questionable content", generally do what I want. I even have my own mini-fridge, microwave oven, and pizza oven. All in all, my basement was my little sanctuary (by which I mean that place where I could cut myself off from the world before I go on an all out killing spree).
This is my problem: because of the piss on the clothes (which he was yet to come down and wash by the way) the dogs are not aloud upstairs anymore, so they're stuck down here with me. Annoying by themselves, yes, but that's not all. Now my father insists on spending every single fucking moment he can with the dogs, and he also insists on playing Farmville for hours on end and watching TV every other waking moment. Now I can't get anything done in my stories, because I'm most ready to write when I wake up. My mind is clear of any of the day's clutter, and I can paint on my metaphorical canvas easily. I can't do that, BECAUSE MY FATHER WON'T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND HE GETS PISSY WHEN I WANT HIM TO LEAVE!
So I spend my easily distracted and writer's block filled nights trying to figure out something to do while my dad is sleeping. The creativity has long left me by this point, and I don't know what I want to do. Since this started about a day after submitting chapter 5, I've been able to get maybe three paragraphs done in chapter 6.
Thankfully my father managed to save up enough money under his "friend's" nose to pay for a place to rent. This is what the aforementioned argument was about, so you know. Just for the record, living with this asswipe has cost him more money than it did to own his own house. While by out on the first of the month. Too fucking long waiting if you ask me. Honestly, I know most of you just don't give a rat's ass about whatever I have to say, and most of the people who even know this blog exists probably just saw the title dismissed the contents already knowing what they needed to know. I just needed to vent a bit. If any of you care beyond yourselves and actually read up to this point, thank you. Give my some kind of sign that there is someone out there who isn't a shit stain that I can't seem to wipe off my shoe.
Now if you'll excuse me my vision is going blurry and I think my father is waking up.
PS It's a good thing I learned to turn my depression into a seething rage a long time ago. A lot easier to deal with. I can express that silently in a "healthy" manner by releasing my wrath in day dreams. If I hadn't learned to do this, then I'd probably have killed myself by now. Not being a whinny cunt and an emo bitch when I say that either. Just being a realist to be perfectly honest.
PPS Had a derp while writing this. I couldn't remember if I was 18 or 19. I am too tired.
PPPS Trying to read over this for grammatical errors failed. I'm falling asleep with my eyes open here. I can't blink without falling asleep. Good afternoon every one, and have a hopefully fun day while I hopefully have my kind of fun dream.
Ouch, that really sucks and I am really not sure what to say to that because I know how rough the economy is right now. I am having trouble finding work with an engineering degree, and you are going to have it even worse than I do without that. The only advice I have for you is to keep trying and see if anyone you know can get you a foot in the door.
As for your dad, he might be able to manage an supervisory/administrative/desk job because there are laws in place to prevent discrimination based on disability so it might be worth looking into something along those lines. I would definitely look into something with the government because while the pay will kind of stink, the benefits will be amazing and probably wind up saving you guys tons of money with his condition. There are also typically systems in place for getting into the government more easily with a disability so you should probably look into that as well.
I know the odds kind of suck no matter how you look at it, but all you can do is keep trying and hope for the best. Good luck, and know that at least one person cares.
1375461 I can always count on you to give a shit can't I? Excuse me if I'm still a little bitchy, but the whole situation still irks me. We'll be getting out of this house in a few days yet, and the first thing I need to do is get my own computer so I don't have to share the thing anymore. I like watching tv, but not every day.
As per a desk job, I hate to say it but he's just not that smart. He's going on 49 years old and a high school drop out. By today's standards though he'd only be a middle school drop out. Besides, it's hard enough for him to walk out of the house without taking a couple morphine.
1376654 Yeah, I went through a nasty mess of my own a while back which basically killed my relationship with my parents, and while I wound up having the last laugh in that one because it happened just before I got my degree so I am fine on my own now, it still sucked big time getting through my last year of college so I try to give sympathy when others get stuck in ugly binds because I know how it is.
As for the rest, I kind of figured there were more issues in play, although you may still be able to get creative somehow. There might be some kind of experimental medical thing your dad qualifies for which would at least help a little bit, but the lack of education combined with a physical disability is a real killer. It is still worth contacting the government unemployment agency because there are probably still a few jobs he can manage (for example, telemarketer or TV test audience), and giving him something to focus on is probably a good thing even if nothing ever comes of it.
It would help if you had some kind of useful skills like metalworking to work from because manufacturing is a good, solid career for someone without a marketable degree, but I am getting the feeling that is not the case here. Of course, you might have something you do not realize is a marketable skill so you should probably talk to a career councilor to see if you can come up with something because you at least have time to get yourself into a real career so it is probably a good idea to make an appointment for both yourself and your father to take a day trip to the unemployment office and see if something develops.
There is really not much more advice I can give, but I do wish you the best of luck.
1376804 Funny you should mention metalworking. Thing is my dad used to be one of the best in the state (if not number one), and I'm not making that up (though it's not exactly something that makes headlines). There wasn't a thing he couldn't do, including titanium. Didn't warp it in the slightest, and it was his first try back in his 20's.
Sadly the constant metalworking (while very good pay) had to be given up on account of his COPD. I didn't mention that either. He can't fucking breath half the time, so that's actually a triple whammy. Add the fact that a couple surgeries on his shoulders has impaired his range of movement in his arms (for lack of actual ability; not pain), and that makes quadruple. That's just breaking the surface. Hell, I have to wash his back before he gets in the shower because he physically can't.
Truth is that my dad was always the kind of guy that you didn't fuck with. He wasn't school smart, but he was street smart. Knows martial arts still too. He can't move too much without being in pain, but even now he's still fast and strong enough to put someone in the hospital. Problem is he'd put himself in nearly as much pain in the process.
With as much effort and accomplishment my dad put into his life, I don't think I'll ever actually measure up to him. There's no bullshit between us, and I know a lot of the bad stuff he's done in his life. Fact remains that he's strong, dedicated, and loyal to his family. Even though we have some major differences (such as our religious beliefs), I'll always respect him.
1376985 Wow. If he has that kind of skill, he may still be able to work as a supervisor, instructor, or consultant in a setting where he does not have to move as often, and failing that he probably has connections he could use to get you a foot in the door in a shop of some kind. I would talk about it with him and see if you can come up with something because that might be the in you need to get out of this bind.
... Normally I would say it could be worst (Which most of the time it can) But this is one of the few things where I admit there aren't many ways for it to get worst. Still, I wish you and your father the best of luck! Because no matter how bad things get, there is always a tool/person/idea/way to make it better. You just need to find it.
1378766 The solution here is getting into our new home in a few days, and I am thankful for that. My dad's...not sure what to call her. It's between friend and girlfriend actually. Anyways, it's thanks to her that we found a new place to live, so believe me I am happy about that. (Though I'll be even happier when we get the hell outta here.)
1378773 Kinda proves my life motto there, but none the less i'm happy for you.
You and your old man seem real strong.If it means anything i respect that highly.As for your situation i hope it starts looking up for you guys.Not much i can do but if you need to vent through your blog posts then hell ill read every damn one of em if it helps mate.I don't know what your religious beliefs are but ima pray for you if you don't mind though i probaly will even if you do too.Well hope things start looking better peace.
1378807 Truth be told I never told my dad I switched beliefs. He's pretty strongly set as a christian, but after all the crap I've gone through I just don't feel like that anymore. It's not that I don't believe there's a god, I do actually, I just don't share the christian philosophies anymore. By the way, my bio actually states what my religion is. Sort of a minority one, only officially established back in the 50's (as apposed to the ones that have been around for hundreds or thousands of years).
1378829 I can understand that personally after being around multiple religious beliefs ive come to just not follow any of them and just choose to follow god in my own way so i get where your coming from.