The End of the Road for Me (Final Rant)

This is the end of the road or “rock bottom” as they call it. The end of a long season, I guess.

It’s one of those situations where I’ve been deprived of all options other than ones I’m unable or unwilling to do.

I said before that it’s not a matter of pride. I have done all kinds of work from fast food to retail to “putting things in boxes.” I’ve done automotive work, put furniture together, worked as a waitress, been in an office job, done the casinos and their banks, and much more. I also did e-commerce back before the current giants became the giants they are today. Yep.

That was me IN THE 90s out there finding stuff, literally repairing it, listing it, selling it, packing it, shipping it, and taking care of the closing end with the customers. The only thing I didn’t do was deliver the stuff myself back then because we had the post office and other providers for that.

That was also me writing blog pages, articles, website landing pages and so forth for BUSINESSES. It was also me creating whole songs for small consulting companies. Granted, I only did it a few times and only got the “job’ because my friend owned the firm and knew I made music.

But not a single day of my experience matters, and they tell me I have no skills or talent. They say my time spent earning degrees and certificates don’t mean anything. They tell me I have poor quality, low intelligence, and I’m late and slow, etc. Lol.

That’s the one thing I liked about working the gig jobs. The proof was in the pudding. The customers rated us according to our service quality, and the companies kept record of how much work we did and such. They were pretty good indicators of my work ethic … until they weren’t anymore.

Sometimes people will stop at nothing to make their false representation of you seem true to others (and themselves). That’s all I’ll say about that. 

I have earned less money before, but we’re supposed to progress in income, not revert.

I earned $17 an hour 20 years ago. Just think about that for a minute and try to understand how horribly sad it is to be offered anything less 20 years later. Even to be offered the equivalent is a slap in the face. It means I’ve made zero progress for the majority of my life, and I can’t do it anymore.

I have worked very hard in this lifetime. I’ve taken all kinds of abuse, not just in the workplace but in personal life, etc. I’ve been used, passed over, beat up, stomped on, stepped over, etc. Everything you can think of happening to someone has happened to this chick here.

I have bent over backwards for people, loved them with all I had, spoken highly of their businesses and workplaces, dedicated myself to their success, recovery, etc. If the only way I can earn what I need is to sacrifice my day of worship or return to a loathsome employer, then I guess I don’t need a job or a home.

At this point, I won’t break not one more sweat for a multibillion dollar company. I won’t take another snide remark or humiliation. I won’t take another condescending person talking to me like I’m their five-year-old child. I won’t beg for “help” from the very parties who facilitated most of my recent struggles, lmao.

I also won’t claim any “condition” I don’t have or withdraw any of my previous stories. I am not mentally ill or disabled, and I never told a single lie about any of the abuse I endured. The folks who dished out the abuse know who they are and what they did, and that’s why we have no contact other than what’s forced by proxy.

I am done with a capital D.

I did manage to pay my rent this month, but I kind of regret doing it. I could have used that money for something else. Anything would have been better than wasting more of my hard earned money for something that will never be mine. It’s gotten to the point where I hate even doing it.

It’s just a never-ending cycle of fighting and scraping by just to pay for another month to fight and scrape. Hopefully something good will happen for me so I can close out this lease and move the **** on. I guess we can’t get too comfortable anywhere in this life. Six years, though. Not bad. But every time I get comfortable anywhere, I seem to start getting pushed out. Believe me, I DON’T want things to go that way, but they do.

I know that I am spiritually malnourished right now, so I will keep that in mind and try to work on that today. I’m trying to come up with a strategy also, but I’m fresh out of ideas. I only know what I can’t do under any circumstances, but I don’t know what I should do. That’s something I’ll have to consult with a higher power about. Maybe I’ll gain more clarity then.

The day I had yesterday isn’t worth talking about. I scribbled a draft and didn’t even release it because it’s just more of the same. Smear, bully, block, watch, yadda yadda.

Peace, diary.