We’re almost at the end of 2015 and I know I’m not the only to notice that it seemed to go by quickly. Almost everyone I speak to says, “where did it go?” I used to think it was only older people who felt time going quickly, but now I’m noticing it happening. Wait, maybe I’m old now?
I’m not complaining though. 2015 has been a horrible year, for a lot of people besides myself. Not only have we had terrorism all over the world but many people I know have experienced personal anguish of many kinds during this year. I’m no exception to this unfortunately. I’ve had, and am still having, problems with the benefit system here in the UK. I still don’t know if I’m going to be receiving any of the benefit I’m due. I seem to be coming up against one total fuck up after another and I don’t see why I should have to fight just to get what I’m entitled to. I’ve been living on nothing since 20th October and if it weren’t for the generosity of some of my wonderful facebook friends, the cats and I would have starved by now.
The byword for this past year is Loser. It is during this past twelve months that I have been forced to face up to the fact that I am a total loser in every respect. Looking back over my life, I have failed to succeed in every single thing I’ve tried. It is not due to lack of trying either, an accusation my mother laid at my door just the other day. I have given time and effort, and often money, into many different hobbies, crafts, and entrepreneurial pursuits, and have failed in them all.
Since June 2011, I have been writing novels and short stories and now have a backlist of twelve books, with another finished to first draft and yet another half written. All have failed to sell and still nobody is interested in my work. I have tried doing free giveaways, one facebook release event I arranged garnered the impressive attendance of just 2. I am now experiencing the painful trauma of realising that I am wasting my time publishing and probably should not bother doing so again. When I say painful, I mean it. Failing at this is the most painful thing of my entire life so far. I cannot adequately explain how much I want to be a successful novelist, and to fail so spectacularly is a burden that is too much to bear.
It is very strange to go through one’s daily existence devoid of emotional connection to one’s conscious being. To be unable to ‘feel’ anything makes the process of daily existence much like a hamster running on a wheel. One runs but never gets anywhere. It is not simply the joy that has gone, but the meaning itself, the point, the raison d’etre.
I am just one of scores who feel this way at the end of 2015 and many pseudo spiritual hanky wafters would say there’s some kind of great shift in consciousness going on, no doubt engineered by the great ones over at the Pleiades or other such spiritual masters. Poppycock. We’re sick of life the way it is, end of story.
I go into 2016 with no hope for good fortune or other rosy pink fluffy wonderfulness. As with all the others who feel as I do, I’m just glad another year is over and sure that the next one will be as dire as the last. I can’t wait for the asteroid.
Good riddance 2015.
Hold on. Just hold on. What seems like failure today may very well turn out to be nothing more than another rung on the fiery ladder of this life. I am a fan. I’ve purchased most of your books. I may only be one person in an endless sea of uncaring souls but one is a start.
Many like to espouse advice to open your eyes and see the world as it is-to embrace all its ugliness and drive ahead through the truth-but I say to close them. I too have found this year to be filled with bad news and faultering hope. My productivity has been near zero and, although the ideas still flow in my head, I’ve lost the desire to sit down and write into words these thoughts. Opening ones eyes does no good so I say close them. Close your eyes to the atrocities of this world and live within your imagination. Don’t give up-fight!
Fight, I say. Fight against this world that works so hard to oppress the dreamers. I’ve found solace in gardening. I became so tired of hearing about how the world is going to shit and me with it, I decided that I would prepare myself for that unlikely event. I plan to fight so that I might survive in a world gone to shit. Strange, but it gave me some new perspective and I am starting to feel the motivation to finish some of the works I’ve started.
I just hope you hang in there. I’m sure I’m not your only fan-there will be more.
The best to you. I mean, hey, it couldn’t get much worse to think of yourself as moving upward.
Thanks for this JL, you’ve been such a help and support since I started writing.
My heart hurts to see you in such pain and I am in no position to help you and that sucks so bad. I don’t have any words to make your pain go away; wish I did. Know that you are loved by me and others and surely life will get better. ❤