I am struggling to survive
I feel pretty alone here, I just dont connect with people. I look at faces as they pass by me and as the weeks become months this becomes a painful recognition that I am failing to have any kind of meaningful communication with anyone. It creates an isolating feeling that snowballs.
I struggle to stay afloat.
I begin to understand why people take their lives rather than continue on
when all seems hopeless
but I believe I am better than that.
I believe I am stronger.
I know the truth is I am not, but if I dont pretend to be...
I can see the fall below
and I wont survive it.
I have to pretend,
so I do.
I make like it will all work itself out
I lie to myself.
I know what is coming.
People dont like to talk about this kind of thing.
They get scared being reminded of their own isolation and fear.
So I dont speak about it.
Who would I tell anyway.
Right now I am broke.
This means I have no place to live
so I sponge off my family for comfort and a room
This can only go on for so long.
I dont feel secure but I have shelter.
I see the months go by and the pay checks arent enough to bring me up
from the pit.
I hold steady
I consider this something
It leaves me with just enough to drink
I dont hurt when I drink
but I hurt double when I am hungover.
I am lonely.
I never thought I would hear myself say that
but I am lonely as hell right now, if I am honest.
just to feel a human touch again would be something
this barren time
has left me needy for comfort
I never used to be needy. I dont understand this in myself.
I try to block it out
but it cant be blocked out.
not this kind of thing.
I tried paying for a whore
but it was an empty experience. so fake. and left me feeling more alone than before
and a lot poorer.
Drunk in a cab on the way home from a party I had to gatecrash to get invited to
I held a girls hand.
I never realised how much warmth comes from a woman's hand
when you need it so much.
I told her. She smiled awkwardly.
I tried to kiss her.
She pushed me away
‘I have a boyfriend’ she lied. I knew she didnt.
But she kept hold of my hand
and I was grateful for that.
When she got out, I saw the black cab driver had been staring at us all along in the mirror.
‘What?’ I said angrily, more hurt at being reminded how cold life was,
and how my selfish and desperate attempts had been watched without my realising.
I didnt understand his reply.
I wanted to be mean;
‘Just fucking drive the car mate’ I said, and looked out the window to take my mind off it all.
I didnt feel guilty.
I could see his eyes, and in them I could see something I didnt like. I saw that in a lot of people.
I wondered how long this would last.
I wondered how long I would miss home that didnt even exist for me anymore.
I wondered how long it would be before I had a life around me again
and not empty weekends spent walking round a city full of people
all busy going somewhere.
While I waited.
Not knowing what I was waiting for,
Looking at women.
Wondering why talking to people was so god damn hard.
I'd get drunk alone in bars
but that just attracted strange looks and strange and mean people. Lost souls.
I had joined their ranks and that was unexpected.
Destiny brought me here
but for what? for this?
I didnt understand how this had happened.
I used to be friendly. It was so easy once.
Now I was living terrified of the future. The emptiness of it. The pain of it. Every morning waking up from a bad nights sleep, maybe three or four hours at most. Looking at the bags under my eyes and fighting to throw off a heavy emptiness in my belly that came from knowing no meaning in your life. none at all. A sick feeling. A sickness I can't explain, but if you have felt it too, you will know.
It comes with a sense that there is nothing more than this.
That this is the truth of things.
Waiting for the pay check.
Spent before it arrives.
Hating the job,
but needing it more.
And no where to go on a Friday night.
Unable to talk to people for more than a few minutes
because something hurts too much inside.
It's like it wants to burst out and smother everything.
Slowly becoming a bitter anger.
like a lost and damned spirit
got caught in my soul.
somewhere along the way.
This is not me.
How did I become this?
This is the ugliness of truth
when we are in it
people cannot get near to us.
and we fall back
into something cruel and cold beyond belief.
this is not a place to die.
but there is no way to fight it.
and there is no escape.
I do not know what comes next.