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If you don’t feel like listening to me whine, then skip this post. This is just going to be me growling at my own stupidity.

My visa application is complete. My passport is ready. My final grades have been sent to the University of Victoria, and I’ve been accepted. I’m supposed to begin picking my new classes in June. I should be on top of the world, in ecstasy over the fact that I have left my old life behind and can now begin a happy new life in Victoria as a full-time Canadian.

But I’m not. Because I was stupid and naive and unrealistic, I decided it would be better for me to stay in Missoula over the summer, the idea being that I would find a summer job, and then I could save up some money so I could live in Victoria with a nice nest egg for groceries, textbooks, and various other necessities.

I had forgotten a few facts: That the Missoula job market is in the toilet, that I only have five years of working experience and there are hoards of 40-5o somethings looking for work in my field, because they got booted from their former jobs and now must resort to retail work as well. I’d forgotten that my job hunting would be severely limited by the fact that I can’t drive and lost my bike, therefore must get a job that’s within walking distance. I forgot that the local economy is slowly dying, with more and more stores and restaurants closing as the days go by. I’ve got about 10 applications I’m waiting for callbacks on, but I am losing hope more and more every day, depending on the food bank and lingering paychecks from my work with various disability organizations to trickle in.

So yea, I am furious at myself for deluding myself into thinking that this was a good idea. I’m frustrated by the fact that I can’t go home to Hawaii because of my mother’s disgusting, emotionally abusive boyfriend’s impact on my mental health. I’m angry that I am not in Victoria right now, where I could at least not be alone while I stew in my unemployment.

Worst of all, right now, I feel more and more like a statistic. Autistic and disability employment in general is very low, especially in this economy, and while I tried my best to not let those numbers bother me, I feel more and more like I am one of those numbers now. There’s nothing quite as humiliating and dehumanizing as feeling like a statistic, rather than a person.

Also, I’m sick of donating plasma, and I’m not going to rent out my eggs or my body to surrogacy.

 

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