“Having nothing” could be a subjective statement to make. “Nothing” can be relative to what you used to have or what others have instead of you. If you didn’t have some things but lots of another and the things you didn’t have were important, would you have nothing?
Today (15th September 2016) I feel like I have nothing but I’m still managing to type on a computer and post these words. I’m trying hard to put things in perspective. Trying hard to be honest with myself and reason with sound logic. So now I will undress myself. Nothing hidden up sleeves, nothing pushed into the orifices of my body. Just me trying to figure out how to start.
It’s been four days since I’ve spoken. Not a word to anyone, not even myself. I haven’t left the hovel I live in and the curtains have been drawn for days. Though technically I’m a free man I live as if in solitary confinement. The shame at even contemplating about being outside is overwhelming. “How dare he go outside as if he has no care in the world, without a job too. Swanning around the garden like he doesn’t have to bother about paying rent!” That’s what I think and I’m certain my landlords would think the same. So I stay in, at least during the day. At night I can leave without the prospect of bumping into them. Well, I’d leave if I could but no money for car tax, no money for insurance and no money for petrol leaves me a little paralyzed.
My phone network has finally given up on me. No payment means no outgoing calls. An outgoing call that could be so important, a life line towards getting a new job. It’s like laying on a raft, floating out of control down a raging river. I can’t make calls but I have 20+ incoming everyday, each a debt I have to pay. So this life line, this raft that barely continues to float also becomes a sadistic torture device. Each incoming call a nail being hammered from the underside of the raft and deeply piercing my skin.
For years I’ve hated my weight, however cliche I could almost believe that looking at food adds kilos to my already disgusting body. It’s funny how easy it is to put on weight and how slow it is to go. Having not eaten properly for a while now I still seem to be an over-sized pitiful blob. Someone who looks like he indulges on a daily basis. My only clue at knowing I have indeed lost weight is the three notches lower on my belt. How can I still feel so lard ridden!
I’m fortunate that months ago my landlord had given me his wifi key. I wonder if he knows I still have it? It’s the only means of contact to the outside world I have and even then I question whether I should use it. I’ve said it numerous times before, who wants to listen to some pathetic down and out? Friends? Family? What can they do for me? Nothing! No magic wands exist to help my despair and besides, what friends?! A friend would be someone who thinks of you as a priority over the mundane things in life. I tell you this, nobody has ever thought of me in that way. And to make things clearer, there is a difference between the sincerity of someone being a friend and one who does something out of guilt.
So, do I have nothing? You might be able to empathize and then you might say “Well at least you have your health. You have something”. Picture this, if an able bodied person and quadriplegic were both stuck in a room, no doors, no windows and no lights would the able bodied person be any better off? No. Regardless of health both are affected equally within the environment. My life feels like that room.
Do I have nothing if I have potential for something? I can do many things, some better than others and some worse. My problem is I care too much about the things I do and want to do them well. This seems to create unbearable anxiety and leaves me frozen. With all my good intent I choke myself.
Do I have nothing if I can’t see a future for myself. So many things I’ve wanted in life. A caring and kind woman, a house and maybe children. How can I think so far ahead when imagining eating tomorrow seems like an unobtainable fantasy.
I have no money.
I can’t pay rent fully.
I can’t afford food.
I can’t afford my medication.
I can’t afford a phone.
I can’t ring anyone for help.
I can’t afford car tax.
I can’t afford insurance.
I can’t afford petrol.
I can’t use my car to find work.
I cant’t afford to clean my clothes.
I live in the middle of nowhere.
I cry everyday at my loss of hope.
I envy those who don’t care about others. Those wretched people with their stone hearts or the too stupid who are ignorant to the world. I wish I could find balance between good deeds and selfishness. To be able to weigh humility, confidence and egotism to create a better me.
I am the fault after all. My circumstances a result of my inadequacies. If I have nothing then I’m to blame.