Falling apart

Everything is slowly, but surely, falling apart.  The deadline to either find a roommate to help produce the required amount of income for my complex management to allow me to stay is not looking very promising right now.  Nor is the potential new roommate search.  Which means, if I don't find, I'm going to have to look into the price of storage units and what it'll cost to store all my belongings there for a little while until I can get my own place again.  And that breaks my heart.  After finally achieving some independence and learning what it's like to live and behave like an adult (it's only taken 30 years), I refuse to go back to some horrendous alternative situation like another sober living house or transitional living house.  I don't need EITHER of those and I'd ra.  nSo Ither have them save the space and bed for someone who is really kickin' off something.
I've still got to start posting ads for "roommate wanted", repost the microwave for sale ad on Craigslist, read through every job advertisement on Craigslist that even remotely matches my skill set and then send off my resume to their add reply email address,
Then there's the added pressure of "if I'm going to make this work I need a fucking job.  Like, yesterday.  So I'm officially hitting the ground running in that department and am trying to have faith that not only will God provide a job for me, but it'll be just the right one for me for where I'm at right  and that this is one of those situations where I'm fully acknowledging how powerless I really am, and that what I want and desire and feel like I need or should have is of absolutely no consequence nor does anyone care.

Perfect example.  So I was feeling ballsy last night and decided to maybe try breaking down that almost tangible barrier that he's thrown up around himself that is basically people repellent and it's hard to even attempt to get close to him because of the energy/vibrations he gives off.  It's that look...you know the "i've been in prison for 10 years" bit.  Last night I officially made a move and tried reaching out and possibly bridging the gap.  But, SURPRISE!!!!!!!

MORE REJECTION.  There is, clearly, something very wrong with me as nobody wants anything to do with me.  I understand it's nobody else's responsibility to care care ourselves.  However, when ltsomeone is just asking for help with something as simple as buying laundry detergent or putting food in their fridge....where the fuck is the compassion?  I am not coming or venting from a place of feeling self-entitlement, but it's just like "why the fuck am I always the one struggling like this."  And to top it off:  mom is completely disconnected between her, her role in all this, and why some of the culpability and my actions are all a direct result of her wanting to control my finances for so long and her willful stubborn refusal to let me take over my own MOTHERFUCKING FINANCES so I could learn to manage/spend/save appropriately.  If I had been given more time to get used to what I was working with and the ebb and flow of the money I have coming in and out, I have absolute 100%that my current financial predicament would not even be happening because by this time I would've gotten more hands on practice with being responsible for my money, instead of the bullshit that's gone on over the past year such as having to ask her for "permission" to buy something (even though, yes, it was MY money). She just couldn't let go of whatever last vestiges of control she had over me and my life, and she talks a good game when it comes to recovery.  But ultimately, all her codependency and obsession and need to control everything:  it's all still there.  Now it's just masked and hidden by a bunch of recovery lingo and slogans and the false persona that she's "recovered" when, in reality, she's just as out of touch with in as she's ever been.