Today, around noon, I turned 50. I did so alone, as I do most everything else in my life.
I am an only child. Parents, grandparents, aunts & uncles all dead. No cousins live locally. I don’t have any local friends. I have my dogs and cats, and a few internet friends, and well, that’s about it.
There isn’t a day that isn’t incredibly lonely for me, and this one especially so. In a couple of hours, I will be oing into a job that I hate and spend until midnight there, feeling lost and sick to my stomach. I will come home, drink 1 beer, take 1 Tylenol PM and go to bed, to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.
For 50 years, I have searched for…something. I don’t even know what for any more. I have given up thinking that I will find a life partner. I have tried, I have reached out, and I cannot find a FRIEND, much less a lover.
I am not in good health; I am tired constantly, every joint in my body aches, I was diagnosed with diabetes last year and have been without insurance since. I won’t be eligible for insurance till Sept. 1. Maybe once I can get medications and find out exactly what is wrong with me, parts of my life will improve. I hope so, anyway.
I used to be incredibly creative. I painted, I drew, but most of all, I loved to write. That creative outlet has left me. My muse has packed his bags and headed for the coast without so much as a glance over his shoulder. I miss him. I miss losing myself in my writing, where I held some sort of power over the outcome of things. I no longer feel whole with this part of my life gone.
Right now, the high point of my day is that moment when I crawl in bed and turn out the light. It is that moment that keeps me going thru the rest of the day. I find myself counting the hours down at random times throughout the day.
I don’t really know why I am writing this. I don’t want birthday wishes, because truthfully, if I could, I would skip this day entirely. I just thought I might share my innermost thoughts with one of my few contacts with humanity. Venting, if you will.
If you read this far, thank you.
Fifty years. How the hell did I get this old and have nothing to show for it?