what to do, I would have already done it.
I hate my life, I hate being poor, I hate trying and only failing over and over. I wish I could find the way forward that would enable me to make my life better. I only seem to be stuck in the same place. For a moment here and there I manage to trick myself into thinking that I’m actually not stuck, that I’m not feeling like shit. That I’m actually happy. I hate to keep a straight face, I hate to pretend I’m not falling on my face right down in the gutter. I hate to try for the same jobs over and over and knowing what will happen: nothing. We’re sorry, out of all the applicants we have decided to move forward with other people, but you are welcome to try again another time. Try. I think not.
There is no try. You do or do not. I do but it doesn’t help because I don’t do it enough or for some other reason.
I also don’t sleep enough because I’m always thinking too much about how I’m going to get out of the hole I’m in. How to escape this life I’m so fed up with I could puke. Yes, I’m angry. I think I deserve better. I think somebody owes me something. A better life.
I blame the government, the big greedy capitalists and the society as a whole for not being able to solve the problems and not being interested in giving everyone a decent life.
There is money enough, there are resources. The lack is of will to make the changes – because it is so much easier if the blame stays on my own shoulders. I’m weak, I’m too old, I’m not educated enough, not skilled, not flexible, not willing enough, not strong, I’m too lazy, not trying hard enough…. The short version: not perfect.
No human is perfect. We should be allowed to live decent lives anyway. Have jobs and means to support ourselves. It is possible to make it so. It ought to be so. But somewhere someone makes more profit from it not being so. That’s why it won’t be. Not because of me or others just like me but because of those who think they stand to lose. They also have the power to prevent it or make it happen. That’s why I refuse to take the blame for being poor and unemployed and make it a question of my personal imperfections. I refuse and I accuse.
Call me stupid, if you like. Call me whatever you like. I still have the right to think what I want and also to express my thoughts (within limits).
I also don’t eat as good as I could. I know that is maybe a choice and maybe not, because the stress of the situation I’m in does influence how often and what I eat. Sometimes I don’t feel like eating even though I feel hunger. Other times I eat too much, often because I seek some comfort away from the stress. I don’t feel good about any of it. I know it’s not good but that’s the way it is. I do what I can to stay alive. Even if it kills me in the end.
Btw. About a week ago, I celebrated my 47th birthday. Almost nobody except family and close relatives greeted me. I felt forgotten and thought about this song that goes
“nobody knows you when you’re down and out” and how it has a truth to it. Then I started to make up excuses for everyone in my head. I’m sure everyone just happened to forget about me this year for one reason or another but they care anyway and so on… But I couldn’t completely block out the sadness I felt inside.