If You Only Knew
If you’re an avid reader of The Bitter Bitch, then you know I pump out a ton of travel posts for the occasional personal blog post. That’s because each and every blog that I write comes from experience, be it fear, sadness, despair, disappointment. It takes a toll on me to spend all my mental time evaluating my situation and then recounting it for you guys. But the last few weeks all I seem to be able to do is feel. I’ve gotten very little traveling done, and in turn almost no travel writing done, but I’ve been on feelings overload with this situation with Dodge, so much so that in the last week I’ve secured a place to stay, somewhere to put the trailer, and have even entertained going back to a job that I loathed so much it almost killed me.
I’m at an impasse right now where I feel like the right thing to do is to stop, go back to where I know the money is, and start earning again. I was so sure that once I had the time to focus all my efforts on the blog, that it would be successful. I was wrong. Instead I only traded one set of problems for another and instead of a job I hate and a bunch of employees that are stupid, I have a constantly failing truck, a 200sq ft home that I can only describe as domicial roulette, and no way of knowing if and when I might make it to the next location. I’m fucking terrified and fear makes you do unimaginable things, like begging for your minimum wage job back.
But this morning after a lot of tossing and turning, I woke up with a little mental clarity so here’s my psycho analysis of the situation at hand: everything I’ve ever done in my life has been propelled by fear. I kept jobs I didn’t want because I was afraid I’d never make that kind of money again. I stayed in relationships that were toxic because I was afraid I’d never find someone to love me again. I have a lifelong history of settling because I don’t know what’s on the other side, and I’ve always been too afraid to find out. For so long I followed this path until it ate me alive. I couldn’t stand to wake up, I couldn’t go to work, I stopped dating for years. I hated my life so much that my new fear became living the same miserable day over and over until I died. I spent so long letting fear keep me in one place that the fear of never leaving led me to make some implusive, rash decisions about my life, finances, and future. So I combatted that by changing every single fucking aspect at once, a proverbial life bomb if you will. And that also proved to be a mistake. Could’ve made small steps, formulated a plan, but the misery was consuming me and my greatest downfall is my impulsiveness, so here we are.
So again, just like six months ago when I was departing Las Vegas the first time, sure I was setting out on the adventure of my life, only to be crushed by feelings of inadequacy and terror, I find myself at a familiar crossroads. I can stay and do the same shit, same cycle as everyone else, only this time I have no residence, no employement, I’m back to square one like when I was 20 and my Capital One card had a $250 limit. Or I can roll the dice again because how many times do you get an opportunity in life to change completely and then you fucking blow it. I’ve already done the damage, what’s a little more wear and tear. Maybe this soft launch will be different. Maybe the truck is going to run right now. Maybe we really did get all the kinks out of the trailer. Maybe now that I know what the fuck I’m doing and can trust myself, I pull off from that hot concrete curb and start a new adventure, one filled with joy and excitement and fun instead of everything fucking tears.
We come to these big crossroads in life, some dropped in our laps, others self inflicted. Its almost always easiest to stay in the same lane where you know what’s ahead, can plan, no surprises. It takes a lot of courage, and a ton of stupidity, to say fuck it and chase the unknown. We watch these stories where people defied the odds, chased their dreams, and got it right, and we think to ourselves Why can’t that be me? If I just work hard enough, if I just put myself out there enough. If I just commit, things are gonna change. That’s what I thought too because commitment’s never been my issue. Big risk, big reward right? I remember constantly saying I’d rather have failed and know I tried, then never know at all. But I can tell you now, in the trenches of that failure, with no clear path on either side, trudging through the fuckery of my bad decisions and worse luck, I don’t know if it’s actually true. If I come out the other side and I risked everything just to fucking fail, I know I’m not going to say Fuck I’m so glad I did that and I know now!! No, I’m gonna say Fuck I should’ve listened to my mom. We want to believe the 1/100 stories where perseverance paid off, where risk was rewarded, but we don’t talk about all the failures, all the fuck-ups, and all the should haves. I don’t know what’s going to happen for me. I don’t know what’s going to happen for you. But I do know that if you decide to say fuck it too, you have to really mean it and be willing to see it through to the end because that 1/100 that did make it didn’t stop halfway through and get an apartment with their dog.