I Guess the Good Times are Over

Note: this was pre-scheduled for posting after being written last night.

The past few weeks has been a depressing epilogue to the past few months of my life. After a summer of tattooing and campaigning, life since tattooing and the election have weighed heavy upon my heart, soul, and body. My eyes are failing, my fingers hurt, and I’ve lost the inspiration to create original work. The heart I wore upon my sleeve was an easy target for the slings and arrows of the world. A nasty smear campaign, followed by harassment and veiled threats adds to the mess. And as I began to withdraw from the world around me, I am only reminded of the evils and despairs of the world in others, which ultimately find a way to penetrate the walls I’ve built around myself, turning a fortress of defense into a prison of solitude.

I lost faith in myself and the community around me. I am no longer inspired, hopeful, passionate, or find reasons to care. Each day begins with the immediate hope that it ends quickly and I can sleep: the only solace to the empty life I now live.

I get scared to go outside or see people. Being reminded that I am not the most atttactive-looking in the smile department, I often feel that I need to wear a mask when I go out. I feel incredibly ugly and thats something I’ve not been able to shake my entire life. It is especially pronounced these days. As well, I find what I see around me as depressing and joyless.

I am intimidated to talk to people. I get suspicious of others now…I wonder if displays of kindness or even the mere passing greeting are only the first shots at me, and that others have ulterior motives and may attempt to utilize me for those motives. Or that they are getting close to me only to gain my trust and/or affection, only to embarrass, use, or abandon me in the end.

I am scared of the neighbourhood. I hear the sirens screeching regularly. I see the mentally ill, addicted, or hopelessly vulnerable wander around and I’m often unsure if I should offer help or simply keep a tighter grip on the knife in my pocket that I feel I need to carry in case I need to defend myself. I see their despair and hear their rage, only to realize it is much similar to my own.

I am hesitant to contribute or partipate. I was always very interested in proactively doing things in my community for the betterment of it. After many years of this, I am often faced with the fact that I am no closer to achieving these goals, or that such efforts are ruined by those unappteciative of it, or my efforts are either dismissed or used by others for their own purposes, which are not in line with the goals being set. The passions of mine which had given me much satisfaction are now barely held together if at all.

Lastly, I am most afraid of my current inability to create. I’ve no desire, no drive, no inspiration to create anything. This is a lifelong passion of mine and being without it really messes up my head. So many ideas and images, yet, I am unable to translate them into something tangible, either because I either lack the resources, the ability, or the desire to do so. Writing this has been the most ambitiously creative thing I’ve done in ages, and this task is especially tough.

I feel stuck. The best years and times and people in my life are behind me, and I’ve nothing to look forward to then dreams. I am too old to dream or hope. My purpose and happiness in life has eluded me, while so many others easily obtained them in life. Where did I take a wrong turn? When did I miss the boat? What did I do so terrible in my life that, even though I’ve accomplished many things, the simplest happinesses that others have somehow passed over me. Am I to spend the rest of my days and nights, waiting for an opportunity I’ve missed out on, and simply existing one day to next in an empty life until it’s over?

There are so many times I wanted to reach out and talk about these things. When I have tried to, I was accused of being too sensitive, too negative, or that “it’ll be ok” or “don’t worry about it so much” or “it’s not that bad”. I’m not okay. I’ve not been okay for a long time. On a daily basis, I’ve wondered, and sometimes hoped, that if today is the day I go to sleep and leave this world as I slumber. I wonder how will my cats end up, if others will miss me, did I leave a positive legacy, and who will help with my elderly mom (I can’t even talk with her about any if my problems or feelings, and I never have been able to). It feels all I have left is obligations. Sometimes the only thing that stops me from jumping off a bridge is these obligations. Is this all that there is?

I guess my reason for writing this is as kind of a goodbye. I’m unsure what to do with the future, if anything at all. I’m sure this post will barely make your newsfeed, drowned out by memes, gossip, pettiness in the fake image we present of ourselves, pretending we are happy. At any rate, I don’t want to go on living each day in despair, surrounded by the same things doing nothing and feeling as if im going nowhere. Drugs, media, faith, belief, love were all distractions I tried to fill the increasing hole in my heart and soul…all of which only made it seem emptier. Place your judgements on me as you’ve always done; you are not me and do not feel what I feel.

I wish happiness to you all. Hold tight to those you love. Stand strong for what you believe. I’m dropping out of this scene: all this terrible beauty fills my heart and empties it just the same. But I cannot do this anymore. I’m too tired, too bitter, and too sad to keep it up, amd I haven’t had the time and space needed to heal. Maybe I can’t be healed or cured. I know there is this character flaw I have that has haunted me my whole life, and it has always been a constant no matter how my life has changed or where I’ve been or what’s been done. A change scenery, or a break from life, isn’t working. All I know now is the empty monotony of days full of fear of the world, and emptiness in my personal life.

I guess the good times are over. And I’m stuck in this place and situation. After the last five years, the last few months, and especially the last few weeks, I just can’t give or do anymore. I feel like I am didappearing and evaporating. Everything feels empty.

Laugh while you can….the good times are over.

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