If this is what forever will be, then forever is not for me.
It’s Christmas Eve, and everyone is supposed to be happy and bubbling, looking forward to the festivities that are traditionally held over this period in December; but the reality is, not everyone is happy and neither should they be expected to be.
This time last year, as storms hit the country, I trekked across London and eventually made my way to my ex-girlfriend’s house to spend the day with her, despite the best efforts of the weather disrupting the transport system. We had been dating for six months or so, having previously been close friends.
That relationship ended a few months ago. It was my first meaningful relationship, but ultimately despite some rather wonderful times, it turned out to be a relationship that came to an end, albeit an amicable end. Was it the right thing for both of us? Most probably, yes.
Christmas has never been a time of year that has much appealed to me, but I always looked forward to it for one reason. I would see my uncle. Sadly things changed and he is no longer part of my life, but that’s true of many people who have been a part of my life but no longer are. I’m sure other people have similar experiences, because life is never going to be stagnant, by it’s very nature it is designed to change, people change.
But this year it’s different. It’s very different. It’s so much more difficult. I have no real plans, it’s just another day, another week.
It is the time when you most want someone to put their arms around you and just say something like “I love you” or “you mean a lot to me”. The time where your mind is screaming to someone, just show me that I’m worthy of being alive.
Loneliness is a terrible affliction. I distinctly recall a phrase someone wrote on a forum I use. It read “Loneliness is a curse so inhumane that no human being is capable of performing a crime so horrible that would make it justified as a punishment.”
It creates a void in a person, a black hole which sucks away the happiness, the positivity and the self-worth that a person can feel.
So, despite the fact that I have over 130 contacts in my phonebook, that I have edited a university online newspaper, a football fanzine and in the past the sport section of a citizen magazine/newspaper, and am hoping to launch a career in journalism, right here, right now, I don’t feel I have much to live for. Even now, I’m critiquing the way in which I write this entry; despite the fact it is being written to prevent any feelings from escalating to a dangerous point.
A constant battle is fought inside my head between rationality and irrationality but sometimes even rationality can destroy me. I want to live, but I don’t want to live like this, because this is like there are several caged animals inside my head, tearing away and thrashing constantly in an attempt to escape their various prisons.
Talking to people and reaching out to people through writing is providing a welcome relief for me, it distracts me, it reminds me that if there is one thing I can be proud of myself for, it is that I have some ability to convey my thoughts through the medium of prose, and I have used it to propel myself towards a career.
When you feel low, when you feel alone and sad; if you feel darkness is about to engulf you, then just ask yourself one more time, is there someone who will listen to me? The answer is yes. The Samaritans are always on hand to listen to you, even if there is no-one else in your life you feel you can talk to for whatever reason.
On the eve of my 22nd birthday two weeks ago, I visited the Samaritans near my university. A young man opened the door and asked how I was, offered me a cup of tea and invited me to sit down. Immediately, I felt as though someone was on my side. Someone wanted me to feel comfortable. They wanted to help. I asked for help, and I received it. All he did was talk to me, and listen to what I had to say; but that was all I needed, someone who would listen and who would hear what I was saying.
It’s been a long time since I began to experience feelings of loneliness and depression. It’s been a long time since I used destructive methods of coping with them on a regular basis, but I slipped up not so long ago to spend the night in a hospital bed. It made things no better, in fact, it made things worse. Was I thinking rationally, no? Was I desperate for someone to listen to me? Yes. But it was not the best way to get the support I needed, none of which was forthcoming from any professionals following the stay anyway. I was sent on my way and that was that.
Anyway, I digress. This post has little structure because it represents my thought process right now. Flimsy, sporadic, lacking in structure.
Life is not treating my kindly of late, a master’s degree is highly challenging – although hopefully rewarding come the end – and stressful. Deadlines all over the place, exams, lecturers who I struggle to engage with on any sort of personal level to the extent to which is necessary for them to understand that I have no motivation to complete a day on this planet sometimes, let alone write about the impact of a Business Improvement District on the local economy. That is not their fault, but it is a difficult thing.
Something I used to enjoy, writing and editing a fanzine, has become markedly more difficult and has left me with feelings of frustration, along with other negative feelings of late; which are partially a result of my rapid mood deterioration.
What am I saying? I don’t know. I’m lonely, I miss that I no longer have a close friendship with someone who meant a lot to me, I miss being able to laugh at things for no reason other than because I am happy. I miss the simplicity of previous years and I miss understanding how I feel.
There is a black hole in me as it stands, and until it closes, I will have to battle on.
This is not forever, it cannot be forever.
Talk to someone. If you feel low, please open up and talk, even if it isn’t directly, as with this blog.
Samaritans: 08457 90 90 90