A year and a half ago, I had the three beams of security: A well-paying job, an apartment, and a car. I didn't have savings, but I was content; living paycheck to paycheck doesn't seem all that bad when the checks cover your expenses. The car note and apartment rent were overpriced, but I only have to take care of myself, and I was taken care of, so I didn't care.

Last summer, an accident happened that led to me losing my job. The nature of the accident also made it difficult to get back into that same field, despite a license, a union and experience. However, I was in a much better situation this time around. I had a car and a place to live, I lived near an industrial park: I'd bounce back. That's what I thought, and that's exactly how I approached looking for work.

It didn't exactly work out like that. My inbox became full of rejection notices, and most of them were automated. With little money coming in, I had to leave the apartment. And now, six months later, I've lost my car.

Before signing the paperwork, I hadn't owned a car for 13 years, despite working jobs that involved driving. I didn't miss having a car because of the expenses, but I still did miss having a car. And at the time, I was living in a suburb so I could be closer to work; because of that, I needed a car. I knew I was gonna get shafted with the loan, but so long as I had the money, I was gonna pay and be happy about it. Because now, I was free.

Truth is, for the last year, I couldn't afford to keep that car, but I was fighting tooth and nail to keep it. A part of me felt like if I still had it, then I still had some hope that things would be getting better. Plus, I planned to keep that car for years; it was a Honda Civic. They're like Firefly transports: If you take care of one, it'll last forever.

That meant almost every cent I was making went into that car in one way or another, but it still wasn't enough. So, my stubbornness was actually making things worse. After all, I don't live in that suburb anymore; I'd moved back to Chicago, and I have the tickets to prove it. It's not like I need a car, but it helps immensely.

I was so afraid of loss this time around that I was clinging to false hope and literally paying to avoid the truth. And that's potentially even more damaging.

So, what now? Are you gonna get the car back?
Unless it starts raining money, probably not. It is one financial burden taken off of my shoulders, but I'm still back to climbing out of the hole, just without unchecked mobility. It's 2017 all over again: No job, no fixed address, trying to do the best I can to move forward. Only difference is that I don't drink anymore (six months on the 20th), which is a huge positive.

I'm trying to look at this positively. Like I said: I literally couldn't afford it anymore. It's not comforting, but the cold, hard truth rarely is. I planned to keep that car forever, but plans change. And now, I just gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Maybe if I identify as a corporation that's too big to fail, the government will start aggressively throwing money at me. Oh, if only...

[ https://hisvirusness.com/learning-to-lose ]