The Chicken is Unrelated (or How My Life Has Officially Entered Fucktruck Mode)

I try not to get overly personal on here because, frankly, I don't find myself to be that interesting of a person. Yeah, I can draw pretty well. But I don't really go many places or know many people, or generally do many things that one would consider worthy of documenting in any sort of meaningful way.

I haven't exactly been unhappy about this. I like things nice and quiet. But things have become increasingly un-quiet lately and I'm finding myself in that awkward position of starting to need help with things and not really having that network of people most folks have where they can lean when shit gets weird.

Anyway.

I guess for starters, I should state what touched off this months-long thought spiral I've been currently on: Back in January, my housemates* basically told me I have two years to get my shit together and get out. Whether that means buying a house, or finding someone to move in with, I don't know. My credit rating isn't like, super great, but it's okay enough that I think I could get a place if I get the money together for a down payment on an inexpensive place. Or at least a less-than-expensive place since inexpensive places don't really exist anymore unless I want to shit in a hole and cook on a hot plate until I get the scratch together to put in a kitchen and bathroom. Which, well, I could never get an FHA mortgage for anyway since they have this dumb rule about you having to actually be able to live in the place you buy.

Stupid, I know.

Before all this, though, I have to get a car. A car that will require insurance. Insurance that it'll take a miracle for me to pay with all the bills and crap that I'm already dealing with. And that's another weird can of worms for me because I haven't owned a car in nearly ten years. December will actually be the tenth anniversary of when my old Toyota went to shit, and my entire life along with it, basically.

I used to be the car friend. The friend with the car who could pick people up and take them places and do things for people and just all-around be useful. I'd go so far as to say it was the main component of my personality because I wasn't dateable, I wasn't a good worker, and I sure as fuck didn't feel like a good friend, so the only thing I could do was to be of service at pretty much the drop of a hat.

But then the car shat itself and I lost my usefulness. And everything since then has been this slow circling of the drain because, yanno, I can't really do much other than draw. But I can't draw someone to the hospital. I can't draw somebody money when they need to borrow it. Yeah, I can do commissions, but I can't even do that right because they take me forever. Have you seen my queue? It's a hell of a queue. It goes back like eight years. I'm sure some of the people on it don't even remember that they commissioned me for stuff and I still want to give them refunds that I can't afford to give because I'm just utterly unable to deliver anything that I feel is worth the price.

To add to it all, I just got a call from my dad after he and my mother ignored me all weekend because "Mother's Day and Father's Day are getting depressing". They're on me to visit because I haven't seen them in over three years. Pandemic aside, I just don't like going there. That town has bad memories for me, having lived alone with my extremely emotionally needy mother for a year while my dad still worked in Chicago, and just all of the insanity that little stint instilled in me.

I don't want to go, but I need to because my parents just haven't taken care of themselves, they're slowing down, and now I'm scared shitless that they're going to try and convince me to stay there and take care of the house and them because, I mean, what the hell else do I have going on? I'm not married. I don't have kids. And somehow me just wanting to be me on my own with no husband and no kids is not enough. Like I have to devote my life to being some caretaker for anyone at all, who's only doing so because she had the steep misfortune of being born at all.

Because I'm the car friend, right?

I wish I had fucking aspired to being more than just the car friend because now I have a year and a half to find a place to live and somehow afford it while being so fucking hesitant to just charge for my work because unless I'm the car friend I'm not really worth it, am I?

I wish I had something better to share. More art. Something. I'm just not in a great place, mentally. All I want is to go to sleep right now but I have to draw or I'm not going to be able to do all of this shit that needs to be done.

But I guess getting this out is a start. Better than sitting on it.

Oh and I guess go get the Thiccen mod for Skyrim cause in this house we credit the shit that we use, when we can.

*Edit: I was really curt here because I was in a hurry, but my housemates have been nothing but good to me. They gave me two whole years to get myself sorted. That's amazing and I'm grateful as hell for it.