So anyways.

I did it. I’ve done it. I finally did it. 

I walked out of that house. 

I have nothing but the clothes on my back, my laptop, my flashdrives, my identification documents, and $24 in the bank. Oh, and my Ben and Martin autographed photograph that was a gift. My next shift isn’t till next Saturday, the 16th of July, so I have until then to find someplace to stay and a way to get around to go to work and any interviews I might get in neighboring cities. 

I’m sitting inside a Walmart using their wifi right now, and despite everything? Not having a place to sleep, nor enough for food for all week, or even to rent a small apartment? I feel nothing but *relief*. Free, for the first time in a long, long, loooong time. I seriously think this time Mother’s washed her hands of me and will not try to contact me again. Does it hurt? Yes. She’s my Mother, and I love her to pieces even if she doesn’t feel the same. But she was also my prison warden, my emotional and psychological abuser, my nightmares and my fears. 

Do you know what I just realized a few days ago? To me, Mother never meant comfort. Never. I thought back, remembered as far back as I could, and even when I was little, when I was scared or terrified or just sad, I never went to her. I never went to anyone. I dealt. And I still do. Whether that just made me crazier than I was predisposed to or not, well, who knows. But at least when I hit high school I discovered fanfiction, and since then, I’ve gotten my comfort and hugs and laughs and answers to my questions from fics. 

I am probably unhealthily attached to escapism through fandom, but it’s worked so far, eh? 

What am I going to do? I’ve no idea past this night. I’ll walk around Walmart for as long as I can, maybe nap a bit on the McDonald’s tables. I know there’s a homeless shelter somewhere around the city, can only hope it’s not too far. Then wait until next Friday when I get paid again, and since I just paid all my bills for this month today (get paid every week, but only working two to three days per week at 5 hrs/day @ 10/hr), next Friday the paycheck’s free. Though it’ll be less because I only worked Monday this week oh well. At least it should be enough to buy some black pants to double as interview pants and work uniform, a white button down for work, and a nice shirt for interviews. Monday was the 4th, so it was time and a half. I just have a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt on right now. 

I’m not scared yet. Not really feeling much of anything, really, except relief. And tired. It’s 6 miles from Mother’s house to this Walmart, after all, and I walked it all after not having eaten a thing since I was at work on Monday. I’m ok though. I’ve gone longer. Just a bit tired right now is all.

For once, I’m really hoping I don’t get any interview calls this coming week because I’ll have no way to get there and no clothes to wear and no resume to take. 

Ok maybe I *am* a little bit scared. 

But it’s fine. It’s all fine. Things will work out. Somehow. They always do. Hey, if nothing else, there’s always street corners, huh? 

Ah, just ignore me. I don’t even know who I’m telling this to, or why. I guess I just needed to share. Feeling kinda alone right now. 

And now I’m trying not to cry. Dammit. Guess I’ll go read fics and like tumblr posts until my computer’s battery finally dies. 

Just, if you can, send a prayer or some well-wishes my way if you could? I could really use them right now.

Thanks.