I travelled about 70 miles to a city I had left in 2013. I arrived a few minutes past noon to check into a hotel I lived in for about a year and a half. It was the latest residence I had the last time I was there. The circumstances that bring me here are a little different but similar. I was given the opportunity to inspect 3 rooms that were vacant but known to be in good condition. The first room had roaches, the second was still occupied, which left the final room. I had hoped the room would be as nice as the one I lived in when I was last there. That room was not 5-star, but it was livable.
I inspected this new room and I immediately recognized it was different from what I expected. Given the 2 prior rooms I had reviewed, I decided to go with it as decisively. I went ahead and paid 90% of my savings to occupy the room for the next few weeks. Everything was finalized regarding that and so it was time to decide how I would transfer my belongings.
I sat down in the chair by the door and looked at the room again. I couldn’t get up. The drive to survive kind of propelled me to this moment. I sat there, looked at the walls with the obvious signs of water residue. I couldn’t ignore the smell. Then there was the marks on the walls, the stains that reminded me of urine. The cracked areas around the sink and the possibility of mold and condensation in the ceiling above the shower. A specific emotion was building up in me.
I took all this in. Unlike times past, I couldn’t simply disregard these things and say it won’t matter. I could think about the possibility of moving beyond this since I’ve been here in this exact situation several times before. Once again, I had to depart a very nice dwelling and find myself in an abode just barely above civilized.
I am thankful to have a place to sleep. I considered that thought later. At that moment however, I found myself doing something quite unexpected. I cried. I tried to hold back the tears, but I couldn’t deceive myself about the situation. I was gravely disappointed. I just cried for what was like 20 or 30 minutes. Not steady tears but just quiet anguish followed by tears, anguish and tears.
I asked myself, what am I doing here?
The only answer I could come up with is my purpose in life, at this moment, is to create intellectual property for someone else. That is my purpose in life. Not anything that inspired me but a somber recognition of what it felt my life amounted to at that moment. It seemed rather unworthy, but it is the truth.
About an hour later, I found the energy to get up to go back to the car to bring in my belongings. I decided to sleep in my own blankets. I brought in my duffel bag containing all my clothes.
Later tonight, I will hang some up. A shower will be a good idea as will brushing my teeth. I have two bottles of Clorox Clean-up, but I still dread the prospect. The perceived deficiencies of the room itself isn’t so much a bother than what they represent as far as my life.
I am far enough in age, experience, and maturity to soldier on while keeping up a productive outward appearance, but inside, I feel I messed up. I could have made other decisions, but I didn’t. Part of it was the anxiety connected with the end my previous residence. I didn’t think as well as I could have. I feel like I made an error but feel obligated to continue with the error to see how things play out.
For now, I may be a new circle of Hell on Earth. Life goes on. The rest of today’s experience, you can read about here.