Two years ago I lost my fiance to some two-bit whore he met at a restaurant. We were living together at the time, and he decided to break up with me slowly, first starting with the "we should take a break" speech, then the "we should start seeing other people" speech, and finally "I'm breaking up with you." He was cheating on me with two of my friends most of the time we were together; I don't count it because he had asked and received my permission to screw around with both of them, though one he asked be about after the fact and I didn't find out until later. He justified breaking up with me as "I don't want to use you and walk all over you, and I don't see myself improving any time soon." This story has changed each and every time it's mentioned, by the way. Stupidly, I'm still in love with him, and he is a great guy. He's improved a great deal since I met him--since he broke up with me, even! We're best friends now, and while that relationship is wonderful in and of itself, I want so much more out of it that I know I'm never going to get. So that's the suck.
Anyway, I was living on my own in the one-bedroom apartment we used to share working a shitty job as a customer service agent for a major telephone company. Every day was hell. I was screamed at by people because policies that I have no control over changed, I was called a fucking idiot for doing my job, a worthless cunt for reporting fraud (the guy doing the fraud called me a cunt, not the person I reported it to). The job was very thankless and the highlight of the work day/week/month/year was getting one of those bite-size candy bars tied to a balloon because one person in THOUSANDS decided I did a good job. But hey, I was making $1200 a month, and was managing to live on my own.
A few months ago a friend of mine started having issues at home; she lived with her parents and her parents were deciding to be stupid with their finances. So I offered to let her move in with me. We agreed initially that she would turn my living room into her bedroom, and I'd just confine myself to my bedroom and all would be gravy. So we talked to the rental office at my apartment complex about getting her on my lease, and everything looked like it was going to work out. Then she decided that she "wanted her own space" and demanded that we get a two-bedroom instead of trying the one-bedroom and seeing if we would want to move to a two-bed.
Now, at the shitty-ass job I mentioned before, I'd been having some issues with my health. We were crammed in like fucking sardines, there were no windows on the call floor, the ceiling was low enough that me and my five-feet-one-and-a-half inches could jump and touch the ceiling. People taller than me could just reach up and lay their hand flat against it, and push the ceiling tiles up as well. It didn't help that a majority of the people working there had no personal hygiene to speak of. I was opening the restroom doors with five layers of paper towels between my hand and the handle because I had seen way too many people walk out after taking a massive dump and not washing their hands.
My immune system sucks. It always has. So, because of these conditions, I was getting sick a lot. Like, I'd miss two or three days every two or three weeks. Which, of course, is a huge no-no where this place was involved, because I quickly ran out of paid and unpaid vacation time and they OF COURSE didn't offer sick days. So I wound up taking medicine to try to come in to work instead of having blemishes on my attendance record that I didn't need. The entire site also got bonuses if we hit attendance goals, so that was another reason for me to come in. Well, medicine a) doesn't work on me, and b) does weird shit to my head. So not only was I coming in dripping snot from every orifice imaginable, not only did I have headaches so powerful it hurt to think, but I was also getting the weird-ass side effects. For example, NyQuil gave me the shakes, Ibuprofen knocks me out, et cetera.
Well, a week after moving in with my friend and getting our two-bedroom apartment nice and situated (which was a nightmare in and of itself. The last tenants left it so trashed it took the apartment complex two months to get it fixed up), I lost my job, because the meds I was taking were making me get really shitty quality scores.
I applied for unemployment, and things looked like they were going great until a week or so ago, when I got a letter from the Department of Labor saying that I was denied unemployment because I left my job voluntarily. In reality, I was given the ultimatum to either resign and leave on good terms, or keep letting my quality tank and get fired. Getting fired would have been a blemish on my record I don't need, so I agreed to part ways amiably and signed the resignation form. On that form, in the "why are you resigning?" space, I was told not to put down the real reason why I was quitting, so I put that I was seeking new employment that was better suited to my skill set. Pretty sure that's what got me denied for unemployment right there.
So I have three weeks to find a job and get paid at least $400 in order to make rent, because right now my funds are down to a cool $50. My new roommate, who I agreed to move in with out of the goodness of my heart, has straight up told me that she's not going to be covering my half of anything, claiming that she can't afford it. I was living on the same wages she was for two years, I know damn good and well she can afford to cover for me until I get a job, and she knows I would pay her back as soon as I could. But no, the "friend" I took in to help her get out of a bad situation has decided that I'm not worth helping out, and she's kicking me out of the home I sacrificed to help her out. If my parents aren't willing to take me back in, I'll be couch-surfing until I can find full-time employment at 40 hours a week making at least $10 per hour. Unless, by some miracle, I can manage to get money without a job by doing freelance article writing, illustrations, or anything else creative. Because being creative and customer service is all I'm good at, and I hate people (courtesy of the job I just lost).
And that is the fail.
tl;dr: My fiance broke up with me two years ago and I still love him (suck), I lost my job after moving in with a roommate to help her get out of bullshit, and now she's kicking me out (fail). | |
Psalm 103:12 As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.
John 3:16 For God so LOVED the world, that he gave his only begotten Son (Jesus), that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
1Corinthians 15:3-4
3 For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ DIED for our sins according to the scriptures;
4 And that he was BURIED , and that he ROSE again the third day according to the scriptures:
JESUS LOVES YOU
Mark 1:15 The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: REPENT ye, and BELIEVE the gospel.
Don't ever think you can find happiness through someone else. Men suck. Not all of them- but most em. They can't help it. They think about sex every one to two minutes. They masturbate any chance they can and then if you're not putting out enough, they go find it elsewhere. Mentally prepare yourself for this- it's just life. I had women buy drinks for my guy right in front of me when we'd be out for dinner. He loved it. They would hit on him all the time- whether I was there or not. So, the sad fact of the matter is- if you're going to be with a dude, EXPECT that he will wander. Plan on it.
Cursed
I had a similar story with a forced resignation due to another employer's numerous unsafe practices, and now I've been without income for going on 6 months. If I'd known what I know now, I would have just walked out and collected for unsafe work conditions. A good reference means shit when you can't even get an interview. I have a college degree in Business Administration that's going to be 3 years old in December and I'm just now starting to accept that it's completely fucking worthless.
But, I still try to get better. It's when you give up that you might as well be dead.
This whole comment is written in a way that blames others. Even when you admit you still like your ex, you're shifting responsibility for your happiness from yourself to him, suggesting that you could be happy if HE liked YOU.
In this whole comment you exist at the "butt-end of bad luck or the decisions of others that impacts you negatively." You blame others and I know when you read this comment you will blame ME for being insensitive and wrong, in your eyes.
Passive people react to negative circumstances in the world by blaming others or shifting the responsibility for their happiness onto others. In your comment it's so obvious I can't believe you don't see it...but I guess you don't think along the lines of you taking action to change things.
I don't have any respect for you at all. I'd have respect for someone who went through all this using lines like "and I searched for another job by doing this and this..." Or " I miss my ex, but I'm getting better at moving on with my life and forgetting.
Instead you just sit there and are a festering sponge for all the negativity you've ever lived with. Jesus Christ, grow up. Get drunk, get laid (optional) get a better job or at least TRY looking for one, and GET ON WITH YOUR LIFE. And NO ONE is going to do this for you, certainly not your friend, roommates or ex.
Also: stop looking for instant gratification and accept the fact that sometimes life is shitty, but it will get better. In my opinion, get off meds, but only do this with aid from a psychiatrist who, byw, you should be talking to into instead of spewing shit on here.
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