Tears before Bedtime

Don’t you just hate it when things seem to have been going so well, but it turns out that not only have they been going badly, but they have been going really badly.

I went to bed last night with the realisation that I am so broke (after having been paid just three days ago) that I can barely afford the cost of travelling to work (let alone anything that could constitute having fun with life). It’s at times like this that I think things really can’t get any worse – but this is not something that I will say out loud for fear that I am proved very wrong by some cruel and vindictive twist of fate.

For some reason (totally unconnected with the overwhelming feelings of failure that seem to come over me at the most inopportune times), I was overcome with the most suffocating sensation of loneliness. For nearly an hour before I went to sleep I felt as though I was so alone, that everything was like this because – in some inexplicable way – I didn’t deserve to be with anyone.

Sometimes I feel so isolated, so cut off. Sure, I have my online friends, but you all have lives offline and to be honest do you really want to hear all my moaning and whining? You all have you real lives, those in the world that comes when you leave cyber space and spend time with the people you love, those who touch the heart of you and give you something back. The virtual world is one where you can dip your fingers, dabble in the writing of characters created by others, and share your interests without becoming bogged down by the realities that your lives become when you sign off.

At one point I had a real life, but the further I sank into the depression that wracked me, the more I relied upon the virtual world to provide me with the company that I was too afraid to go out and meet, be judged by. Online I met people who not only shared my interests, but also didn’t judge me on how I looked, or how I spoke, or how I often sat in front of the computer for 20-22 hours a day, everyday for 10 months as sleep evaded me and I contemplated ways to finish everything because I was too tired to do anything else.

Online I have met some truly good friends. Some I have had the greatest luck to meet in person. Some I have known for a very long time and I sometimes think are better than blood kin. Some I have only known for a short time, but they have provided me with the sort of support you get from friends you have known forever.

Yesterday I did a lot of thinking. I thought about all the things I have done, smiling at some of the memories and frowning over others. I thought over the things I keep putting off because I am so confident of my existence, positive that tomorrow is always going to come, and I became frustrated with myself. My most prevalent ability is procrastination. If I only put as much energy into completing the tasks I set myself that I put into procrastinating I would be writing my fifth novel by now, having had four best sellers!

It’s strange, the thing that forced me into these moments of self-evaluation. I very recently picked up the latest (and here I have to add, wonderful) book by Melissa Nathan entitled The Learning Curve. I was reading through the front of it in the shop (as I always do), to find out when her next book would be coming out (because I always enjoy her funny yet poignant writing) and instead of reading something along the lines of “Melissa lives with her husband and young son in London. She is currently working on her next book (due out May next year) ‘Title here’ I read the following: ”Just two months after finishing The Learning Curve Melissa sadly passed away at the age of 37 leaving behind a husband and young son”. It made me question my own mortality. Made me question what I think I am doing with my life, why am I wasting the chance I have to go out there and do something with it?

I guess the main reason I am writing all this down and putting this up on my lj for all my friends to see is because it is a cathartic process. For so long now (too long if I am being absolutely honest), I have been sitting back watching the world wander on by as though I have all the time in the world. Well, I don’t, not really. Time on earth is limited, and is as horrible as it is wonderful. I need to start getting out there, grabbing every (free) opportunity with both hands and shaking it until every last honeyed drop has been released for my enjoyment and entertainment. I need to start writing the short stories and novels that I have wandering around, neglected, in my head. I need to start meeting people, people I can see and touch (although my wonderful online friends are always there, I know this). I need to start making my own opportunities rather than looking at those who have grabbed at them and achieved their dreams. But more than anything else, I need to start living instead of slowly festering in my bedroom, full of resentment and frustration because I didn’t do this, that or the other when I had the chance.

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