Hello Blurt!

My name is unfortunately Herbert. I am a 33 year old human, born in Europe, but raised and currently living in the USA.

I don’t want to get into it too much, but I went through a lot of trauma in my teens and early 20s as an aspiring writer, and at a certain point a relative of a partner told me about Steemit. I used that platform and, later, Hive, so I am not unfamiliar with this platform.

COVID presented me with a new kind of challenge; of which I failed. Dramatically. I lost the life I considered a “rebound”, and treated myself horribly about it and somehow dug myself a deeper hole. I refused to acknowledge my own mistakes and blamed the world for it. I made a spontaneous move cross country and turned my life around. It was undoubtedly the best decision I ever made

Life improved greatly. I had a really hard time adjusting to life in a city that is notorious for the coldness of the locals, but I was so happy to be in a new setting and experiencing new things. I grew as a person. I grew my career. Even with the lack of the close, personal community I left, I felt better than I ever had before.

Then I lost someone. Im not unfamiliar with loss but this one was sudden and crucial to my own personal advances. Likely the only reason I had made it past my 20’s.

I freaked out for a couple months and became incredibly self-destructive. I stopped working. I was getting fucked up every day to avoid taking the next step. At a certain point, I decided to travel back home to “heal” cause I knew if I continued on in the same fashion, I was going to just let myself die.

The trip home was unproductive. I relished my first few weeks, but immediately after those few pieces of nostalgia, I remembered why I had left. I was in a shitty living situation I couldn’t get out of. Because there are no other living situations there. You just are wherever you can find. My days were surrounded by being NEAR loved ones and community, but not being a part of it. Everyone seemed to have become content on isolation. But I had committed to a job and I stayed. And it went on and on.

During all of this I had tried to maintain my payments on the studio apartment I had 3000 miles away. I got in a car accident during the time I had spent home, and afterwards I literally forgot I had said apartment. I have a previous TBI so it’s not surprising, but it took me months to remember that I have a whole life that I need to address

I drove 1200 miles per day solo on my way back to my apartment. Just to pack up my stuff and move it into storage. Everything that has transpired in the last year or so has integrated with my lifetime of nihilism and desire to just live on the road. I rented a storage unit and am moving into my car for the time being and figuring out where life goes from there

There’s no finish line in this life and we might as well enjoy the time we have here until it’s gone