These have been, overall, rather depressing times for me, but, like the economy, this is a moment in time that needs to happen. It may as well happen during a crushing recession. I am unemployed, I am penniless, I don’t live in the city I want to live in, yet I find myself mentally prepared for what’s next for the first time in forever. I’ve spent the past two years nearly destitute, thousands of miles from anyone who knows anything about me, alone with nothing but my inebriated faculties and a sense of loss, only I wasn’t sure what’s lost — time or brain cells or youthfulness or innocence. I’ve probably lost a vast amount of each, but I’ve had my moment in the wilderness and am ready to come back.
The problem is that what you are ready to return to doesn’t just reappear in front of you — a night full of friendship, a romantic interest or two, sex, places to be. I have none of that right now. So many of my nights resemble the nights of my early 20’s — just me, my car, my music, and endless empty sleepless nights. Like then, I had just one close friend. Back then, it was Farah, who worked at a restaurant, who I’d drop in on often, and then we’d go back to her place and laugh at how funny but lovely Kate Bush is. Today, it’s my friend Hunter, who works at a restaurant, who I drop in on often, and we go back to his place and sing, “rolling the ball, rolling the ball, rolling the ball, to me?”.
I don’t know how I got past those early 20’s without Farah, and I don’t how I’ll get past these proverbial “six months in a leaky boat” without him, either. They reminded me, during dark moments that I always thought would be the last and the end, that I’m a nice, funny person whose presence is not wholesale rejected. For those like myself who have suffered from chronic depression, socialization difficulties and mood disorders for most of their life, someone like myself never assumes that they’re loved, or even liked. I can’t stress that enough to those who are “mentally sound”. I wake up almost every day wondering who’ll have me back in their lives, and I only go to bed happy if I feel like I’ve earned that right. It almost resets itself daily. Don’t try to question it if you don’t understand it. You don’t have to — besides, it doesn’t hurt to show others you care, right?
I know my time is yet to come, but for now, I just sleep all day and drive my convertible into the sunset, wondering when the proverbial phone of life will ring. Wondering if someday the left turn I take down this road or that road will be the last. I look forward to the day when I can ride off into the sunset, with a good excuse and a future waiting.
“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say
I come home in the morning, I go to bed feeling the same way”