This needs to be said, once and for all, to all who have asked/inquired on these situations -- because, frankly, all of it's getting on my nerves and I want to make everything very clear:
No, for the last time, I am not moving back to West Virginia just because I'm poor and recently single. Ever. Let me make that abundantly clear: EVER. If I have the choice, I will never live in that godforsaken state ever again. This is NOT a slam against any of my friends or family who currently live there, such as my parents, or anyone who has lived there their entire lives. I lived there for the first 24 years of my life -- I dealt with every snowstorm, dealt with a job market absolutely bereft of employment for anyone with a liberal arts degree (or, barring that, any job where I could make more than $6k a year -- yes, $6k), and cringed my way through every conversation I had with every lower-class, slack-jawed denizen of that miserable black hole of a state. I have no desire to return there for anything more than a very short visit, and only then of my own accord.
Also, just because I am poor, somewhat depressed, and pissed off at the world doesn't mean I'm going to quit school, disappear, and/or off myself, so calm the fuck down. I am in the MFA program at Flat State University because I want and choose to be in it, not because I feel that I have to be in it. I also intend to finish it and move on with my life, wherever said life takes me afterwards. I live here in Newton instead of Wichita because I choose to do so. I own a speedy, but old and somewhat decrepit car because I cannot afford a better one. All of these choices, for better or worse, have been my own, and no one else's -- and I will stick by these decisions no matter the consequences.
Yes, I have a social life here in Kansas. Yes, I have friends here in Kansas, as well as in many other states, who are there for me when I need them. This is not going to change. They keep me sane, they keep me grounded, and for those of you who worry about me, take solace in the fact that none of them will ever let anything bad happen to me that they can possibly avoid with their interaction or help.
Yes, my financial situation sucks, but I will deal with it. I am racking up more debt every year, but at least it's not high-interest credit card debt -- just student loans. I do not possess a credit card.
No, I do not "miss" the former girlfriend. She left me, I dealt with it, and both of us moved on. I am perfectly happy being single/living single, despite the isolation and/or loneliness that may bring with it at times. As I've said before: I love my car and I love my cats -- all else is questionable. Would it be nice to be in a relationship again? Eventually, yes. Am I "actively searching" for one? No.
For one, I don't have the time or energy to devote to romantic pursuits, and for two -- let's be honest here -- who would want me? I'm not exactly a prize catch; I'm overweight, it takes me forever to grow a respectable beard, I have no money, smoke like a chimney, and have no discernible fashion sense or cultural taste. Frankly, folks, I'm a mess. Most women out there -- especially the one or two I currently know who I am particularly attracted to -- are waaaaay too good for me, and I know this as well as they do.
That's not low self-esteem talking, because if you know me at all, you know I think very highly of myself. That's me being brutally honest.
Finally, I must state once more that no, things are not as nearly as bad as I make them sound here in the blog. Yes, life sucks. It sucks for most people, most of the time. You should know at this point that the purpose of this blog is for me to work out what's inside my head, and sometimes my mind goes to dark places. It is a form of therapy -- some people see psychiatrists; I write. I'm a writer. It's what I do. No, I'm not so poor that I can't survive on my own, at least not yet, and unless something unavoidable and/or catastrophic happens, I'm smart enough to avoid such a fate. As I told my own parents, who have expressed their concern as of late, I am almost thirty years old now -- I can figure out and deal with my problems by myself, in my own way, without inconveniencing anyone else. If I need help of any sort -- monetary or otherwise -- from anyone, I am neither too proud nor too stupid to ask for it. But right now, I don't.
So, seriously, relax. I'll be fine. I appreciate your concern, really I do. And I realize the blog has been, as my dad put it, sounding "grim" as of late. This is me working through my demons, folks; I've told you about that before. Even if I were incredibly depressed, which I'm not, you may take more solace in the fact that I don't even own a gun.
Well, okay, I do own a gun. But it's an air pistol that shoots BBs/pellets. I keep it in my closet for self-defense purposes only, as it looks exactly like a 9MM and I purchased it because of that fact. I'd have to shoot an evil intruder in the eyes if I wanted to do any lasting damage.
Still. That's not the point.
My point is that I'm fine. Stop worrying about me. All of you. Jesus, you folks are jumpy. I have a job, I have a car, there's food in the house, and a roof over my head -- and I also possess other bonuses like hot water, electricity, and clothes on my back. That's all I've ever asked for out of life, and I've got it. Right now it's all I need. There's an ebb and flow to everything, folks -- sometimes life is pretty good, other times it sucks. Right now it's leaning more towards the "sucks" side, but soon enough it will work its way back over to the "pretty good" side. Regardless, I write about it here and pull no punches one way or the other.
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