Sh*tstorm!
Posted: January 25th, 2020, 9:21 pm
This is my first post on here. I'm not entirely sure how this place works but I've always found great comfort in the podcast and hoped that the people around it could maybe offer some comfort in this difficult moment.
It's a long long story. I'm 20, in college, gay, broke, young and a little stupid. Up until recently I lived with my partner of two years (Q) and our mutual best friend (H). In October I broke up with Q because they asked me to choose between our relationship and my college education. Q felt I was spending too much time at school and told me it was that or them. A few weeks after we broke up, H kissed me. When I protested because things were still fresh from Q and I's breakup, H told me it was fine because the two had already been intimately involved for a while. Both H and Q expected me to be okay with this new living situation, expected us all to kiss casually, expected no problems to arise.
I tried to be okay with it. I would come home feeling physically sick to be near them, knowing that my partner had cheated on me and my best friend had been fine with it, knowing that neither of them were sorry for hurting me. When I finally told them how I really felt, they were angry and told me I had no right to feel that way because Q and I weren't dating anymore.
Knowing I couldn't healthily live in this situation anymore, I told them I would be moving out and offered to find someone to replace me on the lease. They told me not to worry about it. I spent the days at school trying to pass my finals, spent the nights trying not to listen to the two make out in the room next door on the king bed that I'd bought for me and Q to share during our relationship. I counted down the days until I could leave.
In December, I went home for winter break. Within hours of my plane touching down, my dad got a call saying my uncle was in the hospital and things weren't looking good. I spent the night at the hospital with my parents, watching him with a tube down his throat and knowing there was no coming back from the kind of brain bleed that he'd had. We had the funeral on new year's. He and I were close, but mostly it was hard watching my grandma bury her son, seeing my dad cry, seeing all these people mourn during the holidays.
When my return flight touched down, I headed back to the apartment to find the place wrecked. My ex and former friend were gone, had taken both our cats, my king bed, a quilt I'd made of old favorite tshirts, some of my clothes, and every piece of toilet paper in the house. The fridge was full of rotting food. My pet fish was dead. The heavy living room furniture, dining table, dressers, etc. were all left for me to move alone. I broke down. They had moved to North Dakota, Q had changed their number, and they had told the landlord they'd no longer be living at the apartment even though we had six months left on the lease.
Naturally the landlord was pissed. He showed up the night I got home with a document giving me five days to pay that month's rent in full before eviction proceedings. I begged Q and H to pay their portions of rent, and they came up with $300 (less than 1/3 of the needed amount). I paid $600, but there was still $800 left to pay. I waited and hoped that the two would pay the rest of their share. I hired a uhaul, cleared out everything I could, trashed most of my stuff, found last minute student housing, and moved myself in. I started school that week.
Q and H didn't pay the rest of the rent. I got an email last night from the landlord saying that a pipe had burst in the apartment during our absence and that he was charging us for the pipe, for the six months of rent left on our broken lease, for cleaning fees, all on top of withholding our deposit. He said a lawsuit is coming if we don't pay within five days, and we're guaranteed to have an eviction on our records regardless of paying.
It's so much money that I just don't have. I'm a college student, already up to my ears in debt. I ended a years long relationship with someone who I thought I was going to marry. I've lost the people who I thought were my two best friends. I've lost my uncle. I haven't had time to mourn any of it, just thrown myself into the new semester and working to try to pay rent on the new place I'm in. I don't know what to do.
The fear is paralyzing, but I can't let it hold me. When I wake up with my heart trying to escape my body, I run or I cook or I call my mom and cry. I try to write, I try to study, I try not to look at all this stuff hanging over me. Money terrifies me but being afraid doesn't make it appear in my pockets, doesn't make the charges go away. I know 20 is a hard age and I'm telling myself that it will be worth the trouble someday. I have to shake this somehow.
Sorry for the long post. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this. Thank you for your energy.
It's a long long story. I'm 20, in college, gay, broke, young and a little stupid. Up until recently I lived with my partner of two years (Q) and our mutual best friend (H). In October I broke up with Q because they asked me to choose between our relationship and my college education. Q felt I was spending too much time at school and told me it was that or them. A few weeks after we broke up, H kissed me. When I protested because things were still fresh from Q and I's breakup, H told me it was fine because the two had already been intimately involved for a while. Both H and Q expected me to be okay with this new living situation, expected us all to kiss casually, expected no problems to arise.
I tried to be okay with it. I would come home feeling physically sick to be near them, knowing that my partner had cheated on me and my best friend had been fine with it, knowing that neither of them were sorry for hurting me. When I finally told them how I really felt, they were angry and told me I had no right to feel that way because Q and I weren't dating anymore.
Knowing I couldn't healthily live in this situation anymore, I told them I would be moving out and offered to find someone to replace me on the lease. They told me not to worry about it. I spent the days at school trying to pass my finals, spent the nights trying not to listen to the two make out in the room next door on the king bed that I'd bought for me and Q to share during our relationship. I counted down the days until I could leave.
In December, I went home for winter break. Within hours of my plane touching down, my dad got a call saying my uncle was in the hospital and things weren't looking good. I spent the night at the hospital with my parents, watching him with a tube down his throat and knowing there was no coming back from the kind of brain bleed that he'd had. We had the funeral on new year's. He and I were close, but mostly it was hard watching my grandma bury her son, seeing my dad cry, seeing all these people mourn during the holidays.
When my return flight touched down, I headed back to the apartment to find the place wrecked. My ex and former friend were gone, had taken both our cats, my king bed, a quilt I'd made of old favorite tshirts, some of my clothes, and every piece of toilet paper in the house. The fridge was full of rotting food. My pet fish was dead. The heavy living room furniture, dining table, dressers, etc. were all left for me to move alone. I broke down. They had moved to North Dakota, Q had changed their number, and they had told the landlord they'd no longer be living at the apartment even though we had six months left on the lease.
Naturally the landlord was pissed. He showed up the night I got home with a document giving me five days to pay that month's rent in full before eviction proceedings. I begged Q and H to pay their portions of rent, and they came up with $300 (less than 1/3 of the needed amount). I paid $600, but there was still $800 left to pay. I waited and hoped that the two would pay the rest of their share. I hired a uhaul, cleared out everything I could, trashed most of my stuff, found last minute student housing, and moved myself in. I started school that week.
Q and H didn't pay the rest of the rent. I got an email last night from the landlord saying that a pipe had burst in the apartment during our absence and that he was charging us for the pipe, for the six months of rent left on our broken lease, for cleaning fees, all on top of withholding our deposit. He said a lawsuit is coming if we don't pay within five days, and we're guaranteed to have an eviction on our records regardless of paying.
It's so much money that I just don't have. I'm a college student, already up to my ears in debt. I ended a years long relationship with someone who I thought I was going to marry. I've lost the people who I thought were my two best friends. I've lost my uncle. I haven't had time to mourn any of it, just thrown myself into the new semester and working to try to pay rent on the new place I'm in. I don't know what to do.
The fear is paralyzing, but I can't let it hold me. When I wake up with my heart trying to escape my body, I run or I cook or I call my mom and cry. I try to write, I try to study, I try not to look at all this stuff hanging over me. Money terrifies me but being afraid doesn't make it appear in my pockets, doesn't make the charges go away. I know 20 is a hard age and I'm telling myself that it will be worth the trouble someday. I have to shake this somehow.
Sorry for the long post. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this. Thank you for your energy.