0

30 Going On Infinity

I’m turning 30 in six days.

I’m not scared of aging. As much as the concept of eventual nonexistence may make me slightly unnerved, I’m actually not scared of aging. I have an entirely different problem, and that’s that I didn’t expect to live to be 30, and now I don’t know what to do with my life, and I’m having an ever ongoing mid life crisis. I remember sitting in my room as a little girl, or even a teenager, and thinking “wow, I probably won’t live past 20”. Then I hit my twenties, and I was like, “well, okay…guess I should do something with my time”. So I did what I’d always done. I made art. I wrote books. I’ve been doing this for fifteen years and nobody really cares and I’m never going to be successful at it, but it’s kept me going, despite the feeling that I don’t want to live to see another birthday every year.

But then something happened. Suddenly creation wasn’t enough to keep me around, or interested in sticking around to see it finished. See, I used to believe that if I start something, I had to see it through to the end, and that because that might take a while, it would keep me alive for a longer time. That was how I managed to stick around. But now I’m not caring anymore. The one thing I’ve sunk my entire life into isn’t yielding results, financial or otherwise, and I don’t care anymore. It no longer does anything for me. I struggle to come up with comics, or write stories, and at this point, I no longer care if I see a project through to its end. But…but, because I’ve done this for so long, because it’s such a part of me, I can’t just stop, so I have to keep doing it, which keeps me alive, despite the fact that I really no longer want to be alive.

I thought I was getting better. I really did. For the last 4 years or so I’ve used this blog to sift through my emotional and mental states and work on them, work on the things that traumatized me and so on, and move on to a healthier body and state of mind. But now I’m going to be 30 in six days, and…

…I really don’t care anymore. And that’s scary. Your birthday is supposed to be a celebration of the fact that you survived another year, but for me, it’s a reminder that I’ve survived another year, when I really don’t want to. I’m in a lot of trouble, guys. I recognize that, at least. If something doesn’t change, drastically change, and soon, I may not have enough of a reason to stick around anymore. I need to see some sort of return investment from the thing I’ve sunk my life into for it to be worth it at this point, and not even monetarily, but just even knowing people SEE it and ENJOY it would be enough. But I doubt that’ll happen. Everyone just ignores me. Even my “friends” don’t respond to me anymore. Oh they see my messages, my e-mails, whatever, but they don’t respond. Friends I’ve had for years, yeah, they don’t respond anymore. And I can’t blame them, either. I wouldn’t respond to me either.

…happy birthday to me, I guess.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

0

Close To Monsters #57

CTM30

This week is brought to you by the fact that your happiness is a mere illusion.

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon!  Visit My Online Store!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my feed over at Ello. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip , buy prints/stickers and more at my online store on Big Cartel, or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

0

Once More Around The Sun

Today is my birthday.

When I was a little girl, I never dreamed I’d live past being 10. Then it got pushed up to 20. Then 30. Granted, while I’m only turning 28, I’ve learned a few things. The first is to stop counting upwards using only increments of 10’s, and secondly that for as long as I can put off ending my life, I might just make it further in life. I’m not happy, don’t mistake what I’m saying for growth, cause it’s not, but what I am saying is that for some people, existence isn’t a struggle. They enjoy being alive, at least on a base human level, enjoy seeing friends, having their families, getting jobs, having relationships, etc. But for others, it’s a struggle, and for me it’s an absolute slog. So, other people go through life, sometimes having a midlife crisis or so along the way, until they finally reach their 80s and die. Meanwhile, I’m actively bored of existing, yet because there’s such a stigma surrounding suicide, shaming people who simply don’t want to hurt anymore, and also because I’m always constantly in the middle of something (a movie, laundry, writing this blog post you’re reading), I keep having to put off killing myself.

Now, people may take that and go “Well, that indecision means you really don’t want to do it then!” and while I respect everyones right to their opinion, no, they’re wrong and they should shut up. Did they make this diagnosis from the comfort of their bedroom doctors desk chair? You don’t know me, or what I’ve been through or how I feel. I WANT to die. I do. I just keep having shit come up that has to be taken care of, and I’m not one to flake on responsibilities and abandon projects. In essence, my perfectionism is extending my life sentence, and yes I say life sentence and not life span, because much like prison, I didn’t ask to be here and I certainly want it to be over with. Now, I’ve written a blog post in the past about how if you can come up with things to do like “I can’t kill myself until this tv show is over” or “I can’t end my life until I feed my dog” then you can keep yourself from dying, but this isn’t that.

This is about literally being so busy to never have time to die. People complain all the time about being ‘so busy’. Every single college student will tell you that, that they’re ‘so busy’, like getting up at 11 is so hard when they forget that they used to get up at 7 to go to high school. People stay busy with jobs, with social lives, with hobbies. Everywhere you look, at any given point, somebody is doin’ something. They’re reading a book, or riding a bike or watching a movie or having dinner with friends or going on dates or working until closing, or, yes, being in school. Everyone has a constricted schedule in which what they want to do often takes a backseat to what they have to do. In my case, the thing that keeps getting pushed back is killing myself, and it doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. Just like those other people, it doesn’t mean they don’t want to take the weekend off for themselves and try and learn a new language or see the new action flick, they just don’t have the time or the energy, and let’s face it, killing yourself takes a lot of effort. My preference has always been to hang myself, but then I gotta get a rope so I gotta probably go to the hardware store and buy a rope and then learn to tie a knot good enough that it won’t come undone, and then find somewhere to hang myself, find a surface high enough that it’ll kill me when I’m not standing on it anymore. I mean, by the time I got to the actual act of hanging myself, I’m wasted half my fuckin’ day just prepping, and that’s without a note! Honestly, who’s got the fuckin’ time?

So, this is just what’s working for me. I hope those who are struggling also continue, as I don’t want anyone else to die. I just personally don’t wanna be alive, but I am, and I’m working with the hand I’ve been dealt. So let’s go for one more round universe, take me around the sun another time.