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How Are You Today: Season 1 Episode 4 “Lewis Is Feeling Lonely”

Cleary reads a letter from an older man named Lewis, who states he wrote to her because he was lonely, and she really understands this feeling herself, being so trapped in her bedroom.

If you like this show and wanna help fund further episodes of it, or other programs like it, please consider subscribing to my Patreon, where, for as low as a dollar a month, you not only get access to literally everything I do early and Patreon only content, but you also get each episode a whole week early!

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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!

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Close To Monsters #59

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This weeks comic is brought to you by the fact that nobody listens.

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!

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Sparky, Come Home!

When I was in elementary school, there was a boy, I think a grade ahead of me, who was surprisingly nice to me. I think, and I apologize to him ahead of time if I’m wrong, his name was Brandon. He was a somewhat heavyset boy, with sort of spiky hair, and didn’t seem very popular. Given the fact I was even more unpopular than Brandon, I think that’s why he took a somewhat liking to me in terms of friendship. We were both kind of weird and unliked, and I think he thought we had some sort of outsider bond.

For reasons that will forever remain beyond my comprehension, Brandon started calling me Sparky. Maybe it was because, as a little girl, I had the tendency to act like a dog. Listen, I said I was uncool, alright? Need I spell it out for you any further than that? I liked pretending I was something else, mostly because I hated being a person, and I loved dogs, so. Brandon eventually started calling me Sparky all the time, and gave up on remembering my actual name, which was fine by me. When time came for us to go to different schools thanks to graduation, he wrote in my yearbook, “See ya Sparky! Call me!” and included his phone number. I never called him.

I did this quite often. I had a habit of meeting people who might actually be interested in being friends with me, who gave me their contact information, whom I just never initiated contact with after that fact. I think a part of it was the fact that I was an extremely introverted child, plus I wasn’t really used to people, especially people my age, being nice to me, which made me super wary, but I also think I just felt like I didn’t need anyone. I think I didn’t want to need anyone, because the people I actually needed, like my parents, had already abandoned me in terms of emotional help or helping me with school. I felt so let down, why bother letting other people in just to have them let me down as well?

These days, I still have to tell myself that it’s okay to want people, even need people, and that I don’t have to be alone. Don’t get me wrong, I like being alone, but I don’t have to be if I don’t want to be.

The thing is, it’s been hard to let myself accept that I don’t have to be alone. That I’m not meant to be alone. When everyone leaves you your whole life, when people hurt you your whole life, when that’s the message you’ve gotten the entire time you’ve been alive…it becomes very hard to not believe that, but I’m learning. I’m accepting it. I’m accepting that some people want to be my friend, some people like me and find me interesting, and my girlfriend loves me. It’s been hard, but I’m doing it.

So here’s to you, Brandon, from your loyal dog Sparky, by the power of hindsight, for teaching an old dog new tricks.

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, the satirical online newspaper of “Nowhere, US”, my podcast “Coping With Tonal Shifts In Reality” or my writing over at Medium. Also, I collected all the fiction, poetry and some new pieces from this blog and am selling it over at Payhip for cheap, cheap cheap!

Wanna donate to me directly? You can do that via PayPal! Wanna support me ongoing month to month and get content early? You can do that via Patreon! Wanna support me but can’t do it continuously? You can do that via Buy Me A Coffee! Thanks for whatever you can spare, I really appreciate it!

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Double Or Nothing

I used to be happy that I was my parents only child.

But now that I’m nearing 30 years of age, I’m starting to realize just how dreadfully lonely the world is when you’re the only one left behind in it, especially when you don’t even have the rest of your family with you. My family is split up, broken apart, they all hate one another and none have ever made me feel particularly welcome. I’ve talked at length here time and time again how my parents treated me growing up, and how I feel towards them nowadays. My feelings about my family are of no surprise or secret. I’m rather open about the whole thing. The one thing I hadn’t counted on, however, was regretting being an only child later on down the road.

At first, you think it comes with perks. Hey, I’m my parents only child! It’s my duty to carry on the family genetics, it’s my legacy, so they can’t draft me into the army! Turns out the pros aren’t as long lasting as the cons are. Turns out that, surprise surprise, twenty years down the road, you suddenly find yourself incredibly lonely. For someone like me, who has always had trouble making friends and forming long lasting relationships, an actual sibling would’ve been a built in companion. It would’ve meant, on the chances the relationship between us was good, having someone to turn to in times of crisis or need. Having someone to vent to. Having someone to get advice from or reassurance or anything of the sort. It would’ve meant not being so fucking alone.

But, to not have a sibling, to not have somebody to share your conquests, your failures, your doubts and your dreams? Certainly you can find the same sort of thing in a general sense with a spouse or partner, but you didn’t grow up together, you don’t have the same history, it’s just…not the same, you know? To be damned to be that eternally lonely, it’s a special type of hell.

So in the end, what we’re left with essentially is the fact that once again, I am alone. I have no sister or brother to talk to, to tell my hopes and dreams to, my aspirations or my failings. I have no familial connection and ultimately feel absolutely alone, no matter what the circumstances are. I have a girlfriend of about 3 years now, I have two dogs and a myriad of online friends, and while I don’t like socializing, I do enjoy talking to these people and yet…it’s not the same.

I’ve talked many times on this blog about loneliness, about the feeling you have being without family, without the one group that’s supposed to be there for you, love you and support you, but this is different. It’s different because a sibling is someone you grow up with, as opposed to parents, who you grow up under. They’re considered your superior, whereas your sibling is considered your equal. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be. But without this person, there’s just…there’s no other real substitute.

So I’m not alone, by any means. I’ve got my girlfriend, our dogs, some online friends, but there’s no thing like not having a sibling. What’s worse was growing up with stepsiblings who hated you. It was almost like an insult to the idea of not having real siblings to begin with. I’m not saying stepsiblings in general are shit, just the ones I had to grow up with. Not only did I not grow up with an actual sibling, with a real connection, but instead I grew up with people who openly despised me, and it was all for the worse.

They say siblings can make up their own secret language, but when you’re alone, who the hell do you talk to.

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, the satirical online newspaper of “Nowhere, US”, my podcast “Coping With Tonal Shifts In Reality” or my writing over at Medium.

Wanna donate to me directly? You can do that via PayPal! Wanna support me ongoing month to month and get content early? You can do that via Patreon! Wanna support me but can’t do it continuously? You can do that via Buy Me A Coffee! Thanks for whatever you can spare, I really appreciate it!