Loneliness

It’s amazing one can have a partner and still feel lonely.

Maybe the nostalgia isn’t completely dead. Okay, for my school days, it is, but I’m starting to feel there is one thing that could make me want to relive high school: my friends.

I miss them.

Recently, one of my friends – or, I suppose, former friend now – cut contact with me entirely. I will never know why. The last he told me, he wasn’t well and wanted to be alone. I apologized, as that was the first time he mentioned it, wished him well, and said I hope he feels better soon. He thanked me for it.

A day later, I was blocked. Ouch.

Obviously, I’m not entitled to anyone’s friendship, so it’s absolutely his right to no longer be friends with me. But knowing that doesn’t stop me from wishing I knew why.

I hated high school with a passion that rivals the sun’s fire. But I miss walking home with my best friend every day. I miss my friends and I getting together during lunchtime in the courtyard. I miss when we would play in the leaves while we waited outside during fire drills (two students were suspended for that; we still did it).

It’s no wonder “best friends forever” is aimed at teenagers. Most friendships can’t stand that test of time.

It’s life, I know. It happens. It also makes me understand people who seemingly can’t be single. Loneliness can kill people. I’m not afraid to be alone, and at times, I prefer it, but contrary to belief perpetuated by the internet, being introverted doesn’t stop me from wanting time with my friends. But most have little time, as do I, I recently lost one, and some no longer live in the same state. That leaves my boyfriend as the most free one. Much as I love him, I still miss my friends.

When I told my boyfriend I’m unsure I want to live beyond Dec 31st of this year, or beyond my next birthday if I live beyond the former date, he insisted he would see to it I live a long life. The implications of that aside, I really can’t help wondering what this obsession is with having a long life. Even as a teenager, I didn’t see the point, but with the future absent of light, I’m more confused at 26 than I was at 16. I mentioned in a previous post I think I’ll always struggle with depressive feelings, and I certainly don’t want to fight that struggle for the next fifty years. That’s not “brave” to me. As I said in my last post, I’m simply stuck. I’m not here because I want to be here. I’m here because I can’t take myself out. My existence wasn’t my choice, but I’m stuck with it until I can access a sure solution to solve it.

Only music distracts me somewhat from these feelings, but the music has to go off eventually.

31 Days Remain

December 1st of 2020. It has been a very long year that cannot end quickly enough.

Yet, I find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place. As desperate as I am for 2020 to end, I am not at all looking forward to 2021.

Unfortunately, the one solution to that is one that’s very difficult.

I’m angry I couldn’t do it ten years ago. I find myself resenting the night of my accident didn’t do it for me. I resent the other two occasions I was nearly killed didn’t do it for me.

I do not want to be here any longer.

There is no point. There is no light. I’ve never been someone who was fascinated by dystopian novels and societies (Isn’t that really what history is?), so I can’t share in my friends’ ideas of enjoying the ride. I want to jump off the train.

Or the train to throw me off.

Fear of pain and greater fear of any method failing is what keeps me from trying. Any method that would be nearly a guarantee is inaccessible.

Which means I’m stuck here.

My boyfriend tells me there’s nothing better after life. No one living knows that. More so, there’s nothing in life worth living every day wishing you won’t awaken to see the next.

No, cute animals don’t make up for it.

I won’t buy a calendar for 2021. Unless I somehow finally find the bravery to make an attempt to take myself out, I’m merely going through the days. And no, “choosing to live” is not brave for me. I’m not choosing to. I’m stuck. I can’t not.

I know very well of the notion suicide is selfish. Funny how “selfish” is always said when someone can’t get their way out of someone else.

Perhaps trying so hard not to be “selfish” is part of why I feel this way.

I didn’t choose to create my life. But I got it, it’s mine, and I think I should be able to end it.

“I brought you into this world and I can take you out!”

Well, why didn’t you?

What’s It Like…?

To have someone who can be there for you in crisis?

To not have an unbreakable barrier between the two of you?

To not be lonely?

To be a priority to someone?

To reside in the same state as your partner?

To be one of the friends who can see their partner when they want instead of the one friend who can only envy?

To have someone you really can tell anything?

To have someone you can talk to?

To have someone who takes crisis seriously?

To have someone who doesn’t downplay your problems?

To have a relationship that moves only forward and never backward?

To have someone who doesn’t think of life as a Disney fairytale?

To have someone who isn’t sheltered?

To have someone who recognizes others’ struggling?

To have someone who with a realistic view of the world?

To have someone who can show up?

To have someone who… cares?

I thought I knew. Like many things, it seems I don’t. Perhaps it’s a luxury I never will.

The countless weeks – inevitably, countless months – weren’t supposed to last forever, and I thought they were finally gone. But I was very wrong. They are here to stay and it will always be this way. There’s nothing I can do but accept that.

A sincere message for those of you with your partners physically nearby: You are luckier than you will ever know and more fortunate than many can dream of. May you remain close until death separates you… and hopefully, that’s temporary.

If I give up altogether, will I stop being disappointed?

No Birthday

My birthday is in two days. I could not care less.

Is it what I’m putting myself through even worth it?

Is all this stress really going to pay off in the end?

Is there a point to this struggling besides making me wish I didn’t exist to deal with it?

Does it matter if I return to school or keep working?

Is being frugal worth it if I’m broke anyway?

Why am I still going on with this? Why am I still trying? What am I getting out of this?

What is the result of all this? What am I supposed to look forward to?

Does it even exist?

The only “good” thing about this birthday is it lets me return to school.

My hours have been cut, I am pinching pennies, I can’t afford so much as a pack of cupcakes, and I have no one to spend it with.

There is nothing good about this birthday. I don’t want this birthday. I don’t want to remember it.

No, I’m not okay. No, I’m not happy. No, I’m not looking forward to my birthday. It can die.

I don’t care.

Digitization

It goes without saying the world is moving more and more towards being digital. Video games, books, movies, even TV services can all be purchased and used online. Whenever I’d hear adults talking about technology “taking over”, I’ll roll my eyes and think they were stuck in the past, but I feel like I’m beginning to understand why they feel that way.

Someday, there will be no more libraries, no more video game stores, and no more DVDs on the shelves. All those businesses will eventually close because everything they sell will be purchasable online and companies will stop producing physical copies. Writing will become an ancient skill because everyone will type. Some schools have already stopped teaching children penmanship. Personally, I can’t imagine not knowing how to write and it’s a skill I never want to lose, but I understand why handwriting is becoming viewed as a needless skill now. By the time I was in high school, I didn’t have a single teacher who would accept handwritten homework assignments. If you didn’t type it out, you automatically failed, even if the work itself was satisfactory.

I’m well aware digital is more environmentally friendly above all, but knowing what will eventually happen to pastimes like writing and visiting the library depresses me. When I purchase a digital copy of something, I don’t feel like I own it because it’s not in my possession. I have three full shelves of books. I can easily look at them and say they’re mine. But a digital book? Whose is that? Yes, I paid for it, but I don’t have it. The company I bought it from has it. I don’t have any control over what happens to it. The only way someone can steal the physical books I have is by breaking into my home and taking them by force. And even then, it’s unlikely all of them would be stolen, as the shelf is too heavy to be carried safely anywhere while it’s full.

But how would I be protected against having my digital books stolen, if I bought any? Or what if the company pulls the books from their site or end up going out of business? I lose all of my books and I don’t get my money back. Thus, I’d have to buy the entire collection again rather than just the few I lost.

Progress can’t be stopped, so it’s not like I’m attempting to fight against it. I like technology very much. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a computer or any consoles or a cell phone. I’m far from a technophobe. At the same time, I don’t want technology to take over everything. I want to still read at library, shop for games and DVDs at the store, and buy pens and pencils to write in my diary. Yes, I understand these are sentimental reasons, but there are also sentimental reasons for going digital. Not having to leave your home, not having to use up space, and so on. For people who prefer that, the world going digital probably borders on feeling like a gift from the heavens.

I also wonder how far it’s going to go. I feel like it won’t stop at digital libraries and typing instead of handwriting. I’ve read that my generation is the last that regularly played outside. Now, I do still see children playing outside, but not often and not many. I used to find the idea ludicrous, but now I truly believe it’s possible technology will someday allow people to never need to leave their homes. That someday, playgrounds and parks will be torn down due to abandonment and games like tag and hide & seek will become unheard of because all children will know are digital games. I hope so much I’m wrong, but it’s no longer far-fetched for me. I can picture it happening.

I realize I’m probably being a hypocrite in coming out with all of this. I used to say people who hate technology were stuck in the past and yet, I now sound like I’m stuck in the past. I don’t hate technology, but the feeling is the same. Everything will eventually be digitized and I’m going to miss times before that occurred. As dramatic as it may sound, I almost hope I don’t live long enough to see that. Technology is amazing and I don’t want to live without it, but I also don’t want live without handwriting and hard copies of books, games, and shows. Progress isn’t leaving anyone a choice, however, so for those like me who aren’t so enthusiastic, we can only suck it up and hope for the best, whatever that could be.