The thought of moving scares the shit out of me.
Well not really scared, more pissed off. I’ve done this already. I shouldn’t be doing it again.
But that’s just what happens…
When your bipolar.
Don’t take your medication.
End up hurting everyone who cared about you.
Its nobody’s fault but mine. I’ll accept that.
I looked up apartments today in case all goes well in my job. Which I am a bit more positive because my manager said He would push for me to get it. His first question as to why I wanted to leave. I didn’t go too far into things, but told him the basicsof my current situation. He doesn’t want me to leave, but wants me to succeed.
The apartment search was abysmal at best. They were all too big. Too expensive. Too much not my home.
They all looked just like an empty place. Kind of like how I feel. Just kind of empty. I know eventually I’ll move on to a different version of my crappy life. And this one will just be another miserable failure to notch into my arm.
Speaking of which. I noticed something odd. On both my right and left arm I did a bit of cutting in the last week or so. And on both arms I cut exactly 5 vertical lines? On my left I did do an extra horizontal one. Which I was gonna do on my right but was pissed off because my razor was dull as shit.
So depressing when you want relief and can’t get it right. Sounds a bit off, but that’s just me. A bit off.
Well, I’m not going to do anything further until after my interview. No reason to get all into it unless it’s happening right.
I’m also a bit nervous about the cost. I used to have help paying the bills. I won’t there. It would suck to have a better job an get evicted an live in your car. Specially since I have a small ass car.
Oh well. Guess I should just drink my tears away like always.