And depression sets in.
While, for the moment, the folks and I are on better terms, relocation depression has set in.
Where I am now is bad enough. But I'm absolutely dreading the time when we have to go out to that shoebox that my folks are building. I don't want to live in that area. It's even more isolated than this place is. It's literally out in the middle of a damn cornfield, with no other houses nearby save one that's about a quarter-mile uproad of it.
Here, I can at least walk to the post office or the (tiny) convenience store downtown. Out there, ain't no walking, unless you like sucking dust from gravel roads (another thing I hate) and a looooooooong walk.
Not that here is any prize. We're way too far from shopping places (like for groceries). I dread what kind of drive I may be looking at, if I ever do manage to land another suckjob (and that is another depression in itself). Also, long drives in bad weather = NOT fun. I've done that often enough to know how unpleasant and dangerous it can be.
I need a sustainable, and preferably happy, balance between the social and the private. I feel like I'm forced to choose between having a job (which I did in Florida) but nobody close to hang out with, or being perpetually a broke bum but having immediate family (whom are just a little too close, as evidenced by last week's fight outbreaks) around. Either way, I lose. I'm starting to think that I'm never really going to be truly happy, or be able to take care of myself without needing financial help. Worse, I lack the tools and resources that I might have been able to use (preferably with help, as I suck at these things) to concoct something better.
It's things like this that really make me want to just give up sometimes. I look at my future and all I can see is nothingness, or doom, due to my fucked-up history and factors. The state of the world/country/state does little to inspire confidence, either, at times.
I just can't get excited about this New House. It's pretty clear, even without their having to say so, that my folks built this thing for them. There really is no place for me. Not that that matters so much, I suppose, because I just don't want to live in that area. I'm sick of rural living.
And sadly, I can't tell my folks that I don't want to live in this New House, because if I do, it will trigger another bad fight.
--
As a result of the recent fighting, I've been thinking again of changing my last name, as a way to further distance myself from my apparently-changed parents. Hell, I could even go along with changing my whole name. I've never liked it. It doesn't fit me, I feel. Sadly, I lack the imagination to come up with anything cooler-sounding. It doesn't have to be avant-garde, just something I could live with better, that would conjure an image of someone better-off than what my current name probably inspires. But the last name, especially, I dislike. I blame the high-school bullies who turned it into an object of disgust with all the nasty little nicknames they came up for me. Although even on its own, it just doesn't do much to inspire coolness. (Those of you who know me this well know my name.)
Theoretically, I could change my name without having to tell my folks about it. However, there is always the possibility they could find out about it in a roundabout way, and that would piss them off for god only knows what reason. So it remains wishful thinking.
Where I am now is bad enough. But I'm absolutely dreading the time when we have to go out to that shoebox that my folks are building. I don't want to live in that area. It's even more isolated than this place is. It's literally out in the middle of a damn cornfield, with no other houses nearby save one that's about a quarter-mile uproad of it.
Here, I can at least walk to the post office or the (tiny) convenience store downtown. Out there, ain't no walking, unless you like sucking dust from gravel roads (another thing I hate) and a looooooooong walk.
Not that here is any prize. We're way too far from shopping places (like for groceries). I dread what kind of drive I may be looking at, if I ever do manage to land another suckjob (and that is another depression in itself). Also, long drives in bad weather = NOT fun. I've done that often enough to know how unpleasant and dangerous it can be.
I need a sustainable, and preferably happy, balance between the social and the private. I feel like I'm forced to choose between having a job (which I did in Florida) but nobody close to hang out with, or being perpetually a broke bum but having immediate family (whom are just a little too close, as evidenced by last week's fight outbreaks) around. Either way, I lose. I'm starting to think that I'm never really going to be truly happy, or be able to take care of myself without needing financial help. Worse, I lack the tools and resources that I might have been able to use (preferably with help, as I suck at these things) to concoct something better.
It's things like this that really make me want to just give up sometimes. I look at my future and all I can see is nothingness, or doom, due to my fucked-up history and factors. The state of the world/country/state does little to inspire confidence, either, at times.
I just can't get excited about this New House. It's pretty clear, even without their having to say so, that my folks built this thing for them. There really is no place for me. Not that that matters so much, I suppose, because I just don't want to live in that area. I'm sick of rural living.
And sadly, I can't tell my folks that I don't want to live in this New House, because if I do, it will trigger another bad fight.
--
As a result of the recent fighting, I've been thinking again of changing my last name, as a way to further distance myself from my apparently-changed parents. Hell, I could even go along with changing my whole name. I've never liked it. It doesn't fit me, I feel. Sadly, I lack the imagination to come up with anything cooler-sounding. It doesn't have to be avant-garde, just something I could live with better, that would conjure an image of someone better-off than what my current name probably inspires. But the last name, especially, I dislike. I blame the high-school bullies who turned it into an object of disgust with all the nasty little nicknames they came up for me. Although even on its own, it just doesn't do much to inspire coolness. (Those of you who know me this well know my name.)
Theoretically, I could change my name without having to tell my folks about it. However, there is always the possibility they could find out about it in a roundabout way, and that would piss them off for god only knows what reason. So it remains wishful thinking.