“The unhappy, the bitter and the vengeful need their fix – which is you or somebody, anybody in agony, or better yet dead, dropped in some hole.” – Charles Bukowski, You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense
You know, for someone like me, someone in this condition/state of mind, I feel utterly abandoned by everyone on more days than I can count. My family, my friends, the world.
I know I have to fight this fear of “going out into the world.” I know that. But while I’m fighting, there are days where I feel that absolutely NO ONE is in my corner. I feel like a forgotten rag in a forgotten box buried underneath the other forgotten flotsam of life in the back of the garage. You know, the stuff you find five years later and decide to toss out after a few moments of sweet flashback.
Sure, people make a small modicum of an attempt to acknowledge my presence, but that’s about it. When my life was riding the high, when I had a well-paying job, everyone was all up in my business. Now that I’m locked in a real battle with several struggles (while still remaining upbeat and positive I might add), it seems that people have a habit of shunning me. I’m not an attention whore, trust me, but I would like some support from time to time.
Sure, my mom and dad do their best to communicate with me at least a few times a week. My dad more so these days, but I’m his baby girl. We’ve always had that connection. Mom? She’s busy with life. She has an awesome existence and I want her to keep that up and not worry about me. My sister, who used to call me several times a day, never speaks to me anymore. I think I’ve spoken to her maybe twice in over a month and we actually live within spitting distance of each other. I could literally walk to her house in 3 minutes. We used to be practically inseparable. Now? Nothing. She doesn’t even acknowledge text messages. There was a time when I was her rock and she was mine. I miss that. My kids are my steadfast champions and my cheerleaders, but they’re ten hours away from me. Miles and miles and miles. How I miss them. Even The Man seems to take pleasure in coming home from work, drinking/eating himself into oblivion, and not spending much time with me.
I guess when the money starts coming in again (if ever), then I’ll be approachable, more of a tempting target.
Why am I bitching? Because frankly this is my page (my space) and I can. I feel alone. I suppose it’s all my fault. I suppose I could hitch up my knickers, put on a bra, comb my hair and face my fears. But I’m not there yet. Is that why they stay away? Is that why they don’t communicate? Have I pushed them away? Have I done something wrong?
I guess I’m just craving face-to-face. Something more tangible than the Internet. But here I am. What can I do? And where did I put my knickers?
For now I suppose I’ll just keep up the Creative Challenge and dwell within my own mind, where it’s safe and warm.