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Slowly leeching followers, slowly leeching my sense of self, slowly leeching whatever tenuous hold I had on life, slowly leeching whatever sense of humour I had.
One day I'm going to kill myself.
Because I can't scream into a void for 40 years, invisible, friendless and alone.
Can't do it. The last 5 years have been hell.
Can't do it. The last 5 years have been hell.
I've not made a single friend on Twitter in the few years I've been on here.
Conversations fizzle out after a few tweets.
Like in real life, I can't keep a conversation going for love or money.
Conversations fizzle out after a few tweets.
Like in real life, I can't keep a conversation going for love or money.
The last few years have just broken me.
I'm literally an empty shell, a husk, a ghost.
No longer human. No longer chained to anything. No connection, nothing.
I'm literally an empty shell, a husk, a ghost.
No longer human. No longer chained to anything. No connection, nothing.
I've lost the FEW connections I had.
Haven't made any new ones to replace them.
Covid has fucked the little of life I had dry without any lube.
Haven't made any new ones to replace them.
Covid has fucked the little of life I had dry without any lube.
And that's the thing about Covid, ain't it? People with nice families, nice homes, nice gardens and furlough are all doing absolutely fine - like my brother and his family.
It's people like me - who were on the fringes as it was - who have been relegated to total invisibility. Services stopped, appointments discontinued. THAT won't resume, even when the shops and pubs reopen. Some things are permanent.
I can't stress enough how little help there was BEFORE Covid. It wasn't like I was seeing someone every day or even every week, because I wasn't.
But what little there was was stopped, just like that. I could die and nobody would notice until they smelt something rotten.
But what little there was was stopped, just like that. I could die and nobody would notice until they smelt something rotten.
My mum is the only person left in the world who would miss me if I was gone.
Have always found reasons to keep on going before. But those reasons are running out. It is only my mum and an absolute terror of messing up an attempt and ending up immobile and disaboed which are my reasons now.
*disabled...
My mum isn't going to be around forever (she's 81), which then leaves only the fear of messing up to stop me. And I don't think that will hold until the end of my (natural) life. I'm not sure I want it to hold. Terrified of growing old in many ways.
I've got no children or grandchildren. I'll be utterly alone. Don't think I will be able to bear that through my 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s.
The chances of me meeting new people get less and less with every passing year. It's such an insular country.
The chances of me meeting new people get less and less with every passing year. It's such an insular country.
Everything is nuclear families. It's impossible to break into them from the outside - nobody past college age wants outsiders breaking into their family and friends group. The last chance to make new friends seems to be when you're a new mother.
But I'm never going to become a mother. Too late for me now anyway.
I don't have my own family apart from my parents. They'll soon be senile or dead. Don't even have a dog - nowhere to walk one round this dump of a town.
I don't have my own family apart from my parents. They'll soon be senile or dead. Don't even have a dog - nowhere to walk one round this dump of a town.
Can't even have my bloody blinds open because of where I'm situated. No nice view to lift the spirit even for a few seconds - all I see are parked cars and the bike shed. No trees, birds. No sky even, unless I go right up to the window.
I see absolutely no way of getting out of this rut. I don't go out for walks anymore because there's nowhere nice to go and there's too many people and cars, and it makes me anxious.
Used to get a bit of nature at a gardening site run by a charity called Lindengate. But that closed due to Covid. Needless to say in over a year the staff have not got in touch with me ONCE to say hello/see how I was/let me know what was going on.
Meanwhile, they're constantly patting themselves on the back on social media for how wonderful, great, etc. they are, when they can't even be bothered keeping in touch with their service users, or whatever the hell they called the autistic and mentally ill people who went there.
Didn't like how they spent a fortune on expanding the place instead of lowering their insanely high fees either. Their choice, obvs, but without the council or other charities paying the fees, v. few people could afford them.
I had funding issues which were put on hold after Lindengate shut up shop, so even if I got invited back, I might not be able to afford it, depending on the funding situation.
Think I'm finally coming to the end of this long and tired ramble.
