game over

My instincts always turn out to be right. I try so hard to hold onto any strand of hope or positivity, but in the end, the sky really is falling. My first month here, I went from 26 to 25 on the waiting list for housing. That was pretty upsetting because if you do the math, that means it will take a year, and I don't have a year. There's no way I could endure this situation for a year, even if I did.

Today, a month later, I call to find out if the list is moving any faster. Maybe it will jump a few spots, but I was bracing for the possibility that it would only move up another single spot to 24. Moving up only one spot per month would be catastrophic. For the math impaired, that would mean two years.

Somehow I dropped down to 32. I was 25 last month, what happened, I exclaimed. The receptionist simply told me that the number fluctuates. Turns out, people over 55 take priority over me on the list, meaning I could be waiting six years, until I'm 55 and they stop adding people ahead of me.

I am never going home. I've lost everything and I'll never get any of it back. There is no way forward. I have no options. I know how to secure a noose to a door frame. I'm trying to decide when the best time and place for that would be.

I'd made a pact with myself a few years ago. My life had to get dramatically better by the time I'm 50, or I would end it. I've been working so hard on making it better. I thought I was getting somewhere. Of course, it's only gotten worse. Fuck everything. I'm done.