Life begins at 24…

I don’t know what the point of life is right now.
Feel like it would be okay if I had the support of my family OR a life I enjoyed OR a partner or a best friend who I loved, and who loved me back. But I have none of those. I live with someone I hate. I am atrocious at my job. I have no friends, except those who occasionally ‘like’ me virtually. My parents take no interest whatsoever in my life, except when the opportunity arises to criticise it, give me instructions on how to ‘improve’.

Were they right all along? Everything I wanted to do, that they told me I couldn’t, that I accepted. Now I don’t have a shot because I got sucked down the wrong pipe. It’s a one-way valve, no swimming against the blood flow.

So what’s the point now? Lost the man I loved. Lost my parents, without ever quite knowing how. Lost the time and opportunity to start something that might have made me happy ever after.

Believed the hype, believed that I was a materialistic bitch. Went down the appropriate, corporate route. Then, slap-face, told it was the wrong road, stupid girl, when all along I’d only gone there for them, and for the materialistic self I’d been taught to believe I was.

And now? One more month stuck in airless, light-less cupboards. One more month tapping away, one more month feeling a roomful of despising, patronising sneers as I fail according to expectations.

And then what? Could be more of the same, with a few extra sprinkles of crushing humiliation and the money-worry cherry on top. Or could be losing it all; income and home pulled from under my feet.

And then what? Wide open plain of unknown quantities. Loneliness, heart-breaking boredom, and tiring poverty.

And then what? It starts all over again. I start a job I hate, because I have to. Because, at the end of the day, you have to earn to stay alive. And so I go on until the next time I can’t face it all.

And then what? Then I crush up all of the prescription pills I’ve been collecting but not swallowing. Then I wash them down with a beautiful glass of crimson wine. Then I sleep.

Sleep that escaped me for so long, that I touched but never grasped. Beautiful sleep, I have found you. I will stay with you and you will not leave me, nor forget me, nor berate me. Sleep, we live together forever, entwined.


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