Well, it seems my life was destined to fall apart around this time of year after all.
Two years ago in September I moved into an apartment in the city, all on my own, for the first time. At the same time I fell and dislocated my shoulder, and almost immediately after that my grandfather died. It was a busy, hectic, depressing, miserable period.
Last year around the same time I got suddenly kicked out of my apartment, with barely a month to find something new, while doing grad school exams and trying to plan a month-long holiday in a foreign country where I'd be traveling alone. It was... unspeakably stressful. I looked for apartments every single day for nearly 5 weeks and then had to pack and move in a matter of days. While doing exams, working full time and trying to plan a trip abroad.
This year, I've spent a month in limbo, living in a miserable arrangement with my roommate because she decided to leave the lease early, then at the last minute we found someone to replace her, who 10 days later told me she won't stay to sign the year-long lease (she'd been technically subletting for the month). We talked, I made arrangements, started trying to frantically find someone new, and then this girl told me that no, she's staying. She wouldn't do that to me, she'll sign the lease and give me a few months, at least.
This this morning she called me again and said she won't be staying after all. The reasons don't matter, I think she's a grade-A asshole but that is utterly useless either as data or as an emotion. There's nothing to be done. In a week I won't have anywhere to live.
As usual around this time of year, I'm also trying to arrange travel. (I'm very, very grateful for the ability to travel, but planning it always seems to fall on an already stressful period.) So for the next week I'll need to pack all my earthly belongings, try to sell my furniture (which I only bought in the first place because this girl assured me she'll be signing a lease), and then... move into a life of terror and misery.
I'll move back in with my parents, and try to crash with roga
during the week, to minimize how much living with my parents is going to fuck me up physically (my body can't handle 3 hours of driving a day) and mentally (not a single weekend has gone by in the last two years when I didn't think thank god I no longer live with my parents
). It's going to be an utter, miserable mess. 3 weeks into September I'll go abroad, come back in November and start apartment hunting again. WHAT JOY. I have not had enough of that over the last two years, definitely!
I just... I don't even know how I'm going to make all of this happen. My parents are still on vacation in France, which sucks pretty bad. It's not even that I miss their emotional support - though I am sorely lacking that as well lately - it's that my mother would snap me out of it somehow and help me be practical and do things
instead of sitting here mostly consumed with shock and sadness.
I know this isn't the end of the world. These things happen, people survive and move on. But I just feel... incredibly upset, in this bone-deep way. In a way where all of this is making me have feelings and thoughts that even I know aren't really rational. Like, how am I such a loser that this keeps happening to me? Am I just incompetent, or incapable of making friends, or just fundamentally unsuited for living on my own? Am I asking the world for a beating by daring to live this life I'm not meant for? Immigrant girls like me don't get to have apartments in the city while working low paying jobs. 90% of my friends and cousins live at home, certainly none of them moved out when I did. Am I trying to have something I don't deserve?