evanthebarbarian
New Contributor
- Joined
- Sep 7, 2016
- Messages
- 14
Rep Bank
$245
$245
User Power: 229%
Hey all. My name's Evan. I made another first thread on here before doing this formal introduction, and I've been blown away by the support this community gives, by default, to even a brand new member.
For the last several years I've struggled with anxiety and depression, alcoholism and drug abuse. I'm down to about $40 on my food stamps account. Have about .41c in my bank account. Have no car, walk everywhere. Live in a crap apartment, fending off a bedbug infestation. $15k in student loan debt (maybe a few thousand more in other debt.) Sub-zero credit score. I've hopped from jobs I hated to other jobs I hated for about a decade. Several months ago I got fired for drinking on the job (resignation by termination, I reckoned.) Last year I cheated on my girlfriend who was basically paying for my existence. Class move. And for about the last decade I've just been hanging out, resting on the laurels I thought I had, waiting for time or the universe or something to just turn in my favor.
And about four months ago, after years of thinking "I should just go ahead and kill myself," I went ahead and tried. Nope. In the days after, still riding the residual high from all the drugs I had taken, I kept expecting some man, woman, small child or inspirational orphan dog to show up and give me the meaning to life, or show me that there was more to live for. Y'know, like in the movies. Except when you're down and out and abusing yourself and others there is no ready-made meaning to life. Why would there be?
Sometime over the last month or so, after walking away from yet another job I hated, months away from turning 32, walking around town applying for other jobs I was certain I would hate, sweating through my clothes in the Texas heat I realized: "Oh, actually I'm being a massive f***ing idiot." There was no flash-of-light Damascus Road moment. Real life doesn't seem to work like that. Just a slow, creeping, horrific realization that if I stayed on this path, I could expect the same problems to keep popping their heads up. And the same solutions as well. Take this, drink that, screw this person, feel better (maybe), for a while (maybe), go to sleep (maybe), and wake up more or less in the same position.
So I'm here. I'm starting a second job this week (my current gig pays just enough to cover my rent) to save up money to get a car, pay my debts, and start building a life I can be proud of. I'm not going to say "My life has changed!" Because it hasn't. I'm still in the same position, still dealing with the same problems. Because I haven't taken the action yet. That's the only thing that causes change. So despite my bigger goals and plans, that's all I really wanna do: Just take action. As often as possible. Think I can do it. Thanks for listening. Thanks for the support. Glad to be here.
For the last several years I've struggled with anxiety and depression, alcoholism and drug abuse. I'm down to about $40 on my food stamps account. Have about .41c in my bank account. Have no car, walk everywhere. Live in a crap apartment, fending off a bedbug infestation. $15k in student loan debt (maybe a few thousand more in other debt.) Sub-zero credit score. I've hopped from jobs I hated to other jobs I hated for about a decade. Several months ago I got fired for drinking on the job (resignation by termination, I reckoned.) Last year I cheated on my girlfriend who was basically paying for my existence. Class move. And for about the last decade I've just been hanging out, resting on the laurels I thought I had, waiting for time or the universe or something to just turn in my favor.
And about four months ago, after years of thinking "I should just go ahead and kill myself," I went ahead and tried. Nope. In the days after, still riding the residual high from all the drugs I had taken, I kept expecting some man, woman, small child or inspirational orphan dog to show up and give me the meaning to life, or show me that there was more to live for. Y'know, like in the movies. Except when you're down and out and abusing yourself and others there is no ready-made meaning to life. Why would there be?
Sometime over the last month or so, after walking away from yet another job I hated, months away from turning 32, walking around town applying for other jobs I was certain I would hate, sweating through my clothes in the Texas heat I realized: "Oh, actually I'm being a massive f***ing idiot." There was no flash-of-light Damascus Road moment. Real life doesn't seem to work like that. Just a slow, creeping, horrific realization that if I stayed on this path, I could expect the same problems to keep popping their heads up. And the same solutions as well. Take this, drink that, screw this person, feel better (maybe), for a while (maybe), go to sleep (maybe), and wake up more or less in the same position.
So I'm here. I'm starting a second job this week (my current gig pays just enough to cover my rent) to save up money to get a car, pay my debts, and start building a life I can be proud of. I'm not going to say "My life has changed!" Because it hasn't. I'm still in the same position, still dealing with the same problems. Because I haven't taken the action yet. That's the only thing that causes change. So despite my bigger goals and plans, that's all I really wanna do: Just take action. As often as possible. Think I can do it. Thanks for listening. Thanks for the support. Glad to be here.
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