I am tired. Tired of working. Tired of trying. Tired of life.
Many of you might think that I am just another of this lazy generation, who can't be arsed earning their crust with the attention span of a fish.
However, if I told you that I, at 23 years of age, am trying to cover 3 jobs, living between two houses, across 4 different towns, without a car to get to any of them, you might find that hard to believe? This is exactly what I am doing, and I am exhausted.
Trying to balance this, while trying to expand my writing, something that is still very important to me, despite my lack of action on here recently, I am finding it very hard to manage. Yet it is not the workload I am worried about, and it is certainly not the money, its the fact that I have taken this workload upon my shoulders, and there are only bits I actually want to do, and feel that I can actually contribute using my mind and skills.
Thing is, it is totally my fault. Fear, indecision, and previous lack of opportunity have put me into this position. I just can't say no because of fear of having nothing, indecision as to what is best for me, and the lack of opportunities I had last year; I just can't let anything past me by.
In knowing this, I am still miserable. The times spent alone on trains and walks, my head fills with nothing but self loathing and a lack of worth, sometimes bordering on giving up on what I want.
Also, though, I seem unable to have nice things at the moment. I say at the moment, apart from my wonderful travel experience, I have never been able to have nice things.
I have examples to support this, all of which have happened in the last couple of weeks. So lets see exhibit A.
I got an interview for a Communications job in Colchester. I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to get myself going and to start fresh. I went down and gave a great interview, probably the best interview of my life. I had done an interview for a similar job in Middlesbrough, and was told I was beaten out by one person, so I felt that this was going to be the one. I got an email, stating my interview panel as being 'very impressed' with me, and wanting to keep my details, but that due to an 'internal restructure' there was no job to be had. After contacting for feedback, it was confirmed that I would have essentially been offered the job.
I mean what do I have to do? I went to a different town a good 250 miles away from home, interviewed well, and was about to be offered a post, and, yet still didn't get the job. This is why I sometimes to question why I put effort in? Why do I care?
It is a good question, why do I care? I care because I want to make something of myself, something that I can be proud of. I feel like that I have been overlooked for everything in my life. It has always been 'Oh yeah, he is a nice lad but he won't do much.' I want to make a conscious effort to change that. Yet at the end of the day, they are probably right.
So on Friday, as the perfect metaphor for my life at the minute, I went through this.
My mates girlfriend very kindly set me up with a mate, yet it fell on an evening where I had just come home from Liverpool and I had work at 7am the next morning. However, I am nothing if not polite so I turned up for a couple of drinks with the view for going home to sleep. Things with the girl was going well, so well I was convinced by many, against my prior judgment to go out. I did, and found myself playing beer pong and getting on very well with this girl. Things were going so well I couldn't believe my luck, until she went outside for a smoke. Fair enough, I left her to it. 45 minutes or so had passed, she hadn't come back and I had began to wonder where she had gone. I looked, for a while, and finally found her; with an upgrade. She had found another lad, upgraded to a far better model, leaving me knackered, drunk and with a 7am work shift the next day. Fucking mint.
Yet it is the perfect metaphor, I went in unsure, sold that it was going well but eventually it went tits up, leaving me alone, ruing my mistakes and with a huger sense of self loathing. This is a snapshot of everything I have tried in the last two years. Makes me proud.
I have been told that this girl was a bitch, but who was the person I blamed for the whole thing? Myself. Even as I write this I am convinced I was the one to blame. I won't be swayed into thinking anything else.
I feel that I will end up with nothing in the end, so why am I wasting my energy? I can't have nice things. I can't get what I want. Maybe I should accept the thoughts of teachers, coaches, managers, lecturers, supervisors and anyone who has ever had anything to do with my development. Nice but not quite good enough. Fragmented never to be complete.