A Mess of My Own Making

I have no problem admitting that the mess I currently find myself in is all my own fault. Of course it’s my fault.  To say otherwise would be to say that other people have been controlling me and that’s the last thing I’ll admit.

Okay, so it’s entirely possible that other people may have influenced the decisions that I made that led me to be in this mess. I know that I don’t operate in a vacuum. I know that I affect other people and they affect me. But the idea of blaming my life on my parents, or my family, or my friends, or the cruel, cruel Universe doesn’t appeal to me. I prefer to take the blame and the responsibility for my actions.

Ah, responsibility. For some people, money is the root of their problems (to be fair, money is a big part of mine right now, but that’s another post); for me it’s responsibility. It’s the root of my mess. Not that I don’t take responsibility for myself, but because I end up taking responsibilites that aren’t mine. Astrologers say that’s the lot of a Capricorn’s life. Well, it’s the bog of mine.

When my parents split when I was fifteen, I became responsible for myself in an adult sense for the first time in my life, which I admit was a rough transition for a late bloomer like me that had been somewhat sheltered from the grown-up world. I went from kid to adult in less than a month. What’s worse was that I found myself been put in the middle of my parents’ divorce as an adult, being made privvy to their bile and venom for each other like I was a friend to vent to and not the result of their combined DNA. It was also the beginning of my unpaid career as a messenger.

When my sister got pregnant the first time, it became my responsibility to see that my niece made it to family functions on my father’s side. My grandpa never emailed or tried to get a hold of my sister; he always got a hold of me and told me to bring the baby down. This doubled with the birth of my second niece and tripled with the birth of my third. Never once was it laid on my sister’s head to ferry her children down to see the family; it was me. And when my mom adopted the girls, I was held even more responsible for them in that way because my sister was off the hook. She removed herself from the responsibility pond entirely when she moved to Texas. 

My sister never had to hear about it from my father or his side of the family for her mistakes. I heard it all. My mother is spared the rants I have to endure from my father when it comes to the girls. I’m the one who bears the brunt of the disappointment from my grandfather when my nieces can’t make it to a family get together for whatever reason.

Honestly, all of THIS responsibility put me off of taking any grown-up responsibility for myself. I still live with my dad (and now a roommate) because the idea of moving out and trapping myself in a job that I hate just to make ends meet just so I could say that I was out on my own didn’t flip my skirt. Why would I want to take on all of THAT when I was already dealing with all of THIS? Then I quit my job and decided to become a writer and now I can’t move out even though now I want to because I’m flat broke because the only part of the starving artist stereotype I’ve mastered is the starving part (my bank account is definitely starving). So, once again I’m looking at taking a crap job to make money, which will require me adjusting my writing schedule to accomidate it and I’ll still end up stuck in this house and the only headway I’ll make is the satisfaction in not having to ask my dad for money.

That’s if I can get hired somewhere. The job hunt has not been positive up to this point.

So I’m broke, living at home, and struggling to turn an unsuccessful writing career into a successful one.

I take responsibility for that. I take credit for it. I had choices to make, I made them, and it led me to this point.

Now I have new choices to make. And I only hope I can make the right ones that get me out of this mess.

I’m ready to take responsibility for some victories now.

2 thoughts on “A Mess of My Own Making

  1. We are in such similar financial states. I’m trudging through the menial ‘real life’ in order to get to the actual ‘real life’ that will start once I have my PhD (or possibly once I have my Master’s). Even with an advanced degree I’m not guaranteed employment. With my luck I’ll have to move across the country for a job that pays very little, just so I can be teaching.

    But one thing I learned from my little hospital debacle in July is that I sure don’t want to be doing anything I hate just to get to where I want to be. No more will I do retail/food service when I can find a similarly low-paying job doing something geared more towards my eventual career. I refuse to settle any longer because I know I’m better than that. When my fast food boss called the entirely of our crew “a bunch of idiots” I knew he was wrong. I may not be the smartest cookie, but sir, I have a college degree, you do not. You’re in your late-40s managing a fast food restaurant. You’re not better than me.

    Mainly what I’m trying to say is it’s totally okay to do what you gotta do for the monies, but as you’ve said in this post, don’t sell yourself short in the process. It takes forever, but you can find something that suits you if you’re willing to wait it out. And sometimes we all have to take that step into hell to take care of bidness. I applaud those who realize when they need to do it, because we’ve all been there.

    1. I appreciate the support. I’m familiar with struggling and doing things the hard way (the hard way IS my way) and I know it’s all part of paying dues in life. I don’t want to be saddled with a crap job all of my life, but it’s something that’s going to be part of my life for the foreseeable future because I need to support myself.

      I’ve got the persistence to make the writing career work, but I know the reality of making that happen involves crap jobs to keep the bills paid. And I’m fine with that so long as I know I’m moving in the right direction to get myself out of this mess and get my life where I want to be.

      I just want it to be happening a lot faster. Heh.

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