(written on the 13th)
It’s been a rough little bit.
That’s a pretty big understatement.
There’s not really much I want to say. I want there to be a record of my life that I can look back on, and maybe other people can learn from, even if I lack the personal fortitude to better myself and my own life.
Don’t think I’ve been able to sell anything since the last time I wrote. People aren’t buying much these days. I think people’s finances are a lot worse than what the media would have us believe.
Speaking of finances, after losing somewhere between $19- and $20,000, or whatever it was, trading, I found out just a couple days ago, or so, or I guess better said was reminded, that my accountant hasn’t been taking out personal income taxes since June, which means, as I just found out, that I owe somewhere around $10,000 in back taxes that haven’t been paid.
Good gravy.
My bank account has taken a pretty massive hit in the last week. Between everything lost trading, income taxes, and payroll taxes, I think my account has dropped somewhere around $33,000 in the last week and a half or so.
I guess it’s a good thing that I was able to sell one of the excavators, or that account wouldn’t have had enough money in it to be able to cover my taxes.
Since I live in a van and don’t really spend money on myself for toys or any semblance of a posh lifestyle, I don’t really notice any change other than the number in the bank account.
I still look for places to park my van where I won’t be bothered by police. I still pee in a bottle and poop, when not near a public bathroom, in a 5-gallon bucket-turned-porta-potty. I still buy the same cheap food brands and cheap food I always have.
So it’s just numbers.
Hard to feel the impact because I’ve never changed how I’ve lived. I live the same way whether I have no money in the bank or many thousands.
There’s no “cutting back on” x, y, or z because I can’t afford it anymore.
I live as though I can’t afford stuff anyway.
Well, I guess that’s not completely true.
I used to buy random things for people just for fun, and I noticed last night, I was going to buy a random thing for my brother, but didn’t because of the recent money pains…
So I guess my previous sentiment about not changing how I live is only mostly true, but not completely.
I wish that I could have that money back that I lost, even if I couldn’t use it to prepare for my own future. I would have loved to have been able to use it to lift other people.
Instead, it was just… lost. Most likely showing up as a gain on the bottom line of an institutional trading organization somewhere that made money off of me.
That day that I lost that massive amount of money… I remember just staring at the screen absolutely, astounded at how what was happening was defying even the laws of probability, how literally the moment that I made a purchase, the stock would tank.
Pretty much every single time.
It probably happened a dozen times in a row. Bye, and then within seconds, it didn’t just go down, it tanked, like somebody somewhere sold 100,000 shares, and I got caught in the crash.
It happened over and over and over.
I just sat there in stunned silence.
Then I was an emotional wreck, and then when, talking to someone else about it with God being brought up as the only way out of the misery that has become my life, I went nuclear.
I am extremely angry with God. There is a pretty significant depth of hatred that consumes me when I think about God while in the middle of those darkest, most painful, moments.
I have one extended family member who is afraid of me, who doesn’t want me around, because of the level of anger that can come from me.
I’ve never directed my anger at that person, but my anger can get so intense that it’s scary to watch the meltdown, even though no person is the target.
God (or cars, when I was a mechanic), is generally the object of my fury.
I’ve spent most, nearly all, of the last several days, since getting everything moved from the ground to my dump trailer (with the help of my mother), so as not to have my possessions ruined by the snow, just hanging out inside my van with my face staring at my phone screen.
I’ve been binge watching Castle on Amazon Prime, living romance vicariously through characters because I have no partner myself.
I feel so deeply.
The circumstances the characters are in… the pains, the failures, the triumphs…
I root for prospective couples to get together and find true, meaningful love. I
I despise when show writers continuously keep the love interests apart, concocting all sorts of ways to string you along. It’s frustrating and predictable.
It’s like show writers don’t know how to write shows that feature people in stable, loving relationships.
Why can’t there be shows where everything else is unpredictable and always changing, but the relationship of the two main protagonists is rock solid?
That’s what I long for in my own life, what I hoped for. Go out and change the world together, fight and overcome the external challenges, and come home and be together, home, our unity, our oneness… that was what was always solid, the calm amidst the storm.
(sigh)
But it’s all relegated to screen time because…
I live paralyzed.
Paralyzed by pain and discomfort and fear.
I’m afraid to get out of bed to even stand up because of what happens with my feet.
All those nerves firing the moment that I put weight on my feet.
And I must have kneeled down on something during one of my burning escapades because something in my right knee, were just below it, as if I had Hodgkin slaughter’s disease, has made that little nub below my kneecap super tender. There’s a little tiny scab there, as if something punctured my skin, went inside, and is just hanging out in there.
It reminds me of the time. I was a little kid in Ohio, slid across the floor playing catch with myself on a Sunday before church, and slid over the top of a pin that broke off in my foot.
They found the pin on an x-ray, and I ended up having surgery in my foot, twice, to remove it.
That was over 30 years ago.
Time…
Anyway, I’m not really holding it together.
One of my friends gets married this week in Alaska. I almost canceled because emotionally, I can’t handle going out there. I have no strength left in me except that I don’t want to cause my friend pain by not going to his wedding.
So I’m going. I leave on Wednesday, and I’m just… terrified.
Mostly, I’m terrified of being around a whole bunch of people I don’t know when I’m an emotional mess.
I’m really really really screwed up right now.
And I’m terrified with my physical issues. The physical issues are basically the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak, because now I don’t really have any hope left in life at all for anything good.
I don’t want to not be there for my friend on such a special day.
So I’m going…
I’m trying to find the strength to get out of my bed stand on those stupid messed up feet of mine, pull out my warm clothes, and pack.
It’s been about the same temperature in Fairbanks as it has been here in Arkansas, warmer, in fact, except for the days that I’ll be there. I think the day I show up, it’s going to be highs in the single digits and lows in the negatives when it was highs in the ’30s and lows in the ’20s.
And it’s going to be crazy cold, Alaska cold, for the few days that I’m there.
On the bright side, I’ve always wanted to go to Alaska. Didn’t expect it to be in the middle of winter, nor for a wedding, but maybe I’ll get to see an even more spectacular Northern lights while being there for perhaps the most important day in my friend’s life.
I hope I can get my strength. I don’t foresee it happening until probably the day before I need to leave. And then, probably, I’ll find myself missing something that I need for the cold weather that I don’t have.
I’m scared.
I’m tired.
Lift the World 