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Close To Monsters #79

CTM79

This weeks comic is brought to you by the fact that in space, no one can prescribe you antidepressants.

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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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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!

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Paper Vehicles

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, crafted from suicide letters and private notes

I wrote the things I couldn’t say and I rode them away; secrets and dreams, whispers and screams, pleas from within and at the end of the day

I crashed them into mountain ranges and sailed into raging storms, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, folded from birthday cards and family photos

I took the things I could remember and I used them to escape; photos turned to sails, cards turned to wings, knowing I’d fail at each of these things

I crashed them into corn fields and sailed into coastlines, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean, I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Fake vehicles for fake people, structured from unwritten nobels and sketchbook drawings

I took the things I once cherished and I captained them to ends; books became jet engines and art became anchors, destroying my things as I destroyed my self

I crashed them into buildings and sailed into whirlpools, knowing full well they’d destroy me

I sailed a paper boat into the ocean and I flew a paper airplane into the sun

Not to escape who I had been, but to escape who I’d become

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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The Dead Tooth Society

This may be a bit impersonal, but hey, what’s a little impersonality (is that even a word?) among strangers on the internet. Ever since I was a little girl, I was told to brush my teeth, much like most of you, I’m assuming, were also told. And for a good long while I did just this, I brushed my teeth every single night and morning. Then, sometime around age 10 or 11, I just…stopped. I just cold turkey stopped brushing my teeth. Because of this, I am now nearly 30 and my teeth are in awful shape. I have begun brushing them again, and it’s helped a bit, but the damage is done. And when I say “awful shape”, I mean they’re crooked (not that brushing your teeth helps that any), slightly yellow and pockmarked, and my bottom right molar flat out cracked about two years ago and has had a hole in it ever since, thus making it basically unusable if I want to eat on that side of my mouth. It rarely hurts, but still.

In hindsight, I think a lot of my rash decision in stopping brushing my teeth was because I wanted to, in the long run, hurt myself. This is a little weird to me because, for a long time, I never thought about my life “in the long run”, as I sort of expected to kill myself when I was, oh, 20 or so. Obviously that didn’t happen, not that I didn’t try, lord knows, but I’m still, sadly, here. But I guess, as I said, in hindsight, what I was trying to do was hurt myself in more ways than one. I didn’t see myself necessarily as something or someone worth taking care of and keeping around. I had a weird situation with my teeth as it was as a little girl, because my mouth was too small, and I had too many teeth, like some sort of sideshow sharkgirl or something. I had to have a surgery when I was about 9 or so and have a lot of them extracted so that my new teeth could come in regularly, which they pretty much did, thank god.

I’m telling you all this because, well, for one, I apparently don’t believe in anything like “too much information”, but also because I want to drive home a point about depression. People often talk about depression in ways like ‘it’s not just laying in bed or crying in the shower, it’s not as dramatic as the movies make it out to be! it can be as simple as just not eating a whole day’ and while I agree with this statement, I also think it goes beyond THAT. I think it even extends to things unconsciously that you do to yourself, like me and for whatever reason deciding to stop brushing my teeth, which I know recognize in retrospect as being a way to hurt myself. I succeeded, I must admit. There’s nothing I’m better at than taking bad care of myself. It’s a gift, really. But yeah, it’s a lot of subconscious things as well, especially in regards to hygiene. I know a lot of depressed people who say depression zaps them of their energy to even be able to bathe, and I’ve experienced that as well. Nowhere near as bad as others or nowhere near as bad as failing to take care of my teeth, but still.

It may be too late for my teeth, it may not be, but I’ve decided it’s not too late for me. Teeth can be replaced. I can’t be. Sometimes to save your whole self, you have to sacrifice a part of you.

DTS Image

image created via Maggie Taylor

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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There’s A Bridge Near My House

There’s a bridge near my house. It overlooks the railroad tracks.

I’ve never had a bridge nearby before, so it’s been a weird thing to adjust to, being so close to something I could so easily walk to and throw myself off of. As someone who’s tried to kill herself, and often debated whether or not to try again, it’s almost like tempting fate to live right around the block from something that could so easily achieve that goal. Now, I’m not saying I’m going to go right out and throw myself off this bridge. I’m just saying that it’s strange to have something that closely related to my suicidal feelings that close by, and somehow have the strength to continually never use it, despite always waking up in the morning wishing I hadn’t woken up in the morning.

I’ve said numerous times that one of, if not the only, thing that helps regarding suicidal thoughts is that it stems from a place of control when I have none. It’s something I have complete and total control of deciding to do and carrying out, accomplishing that goal. When you have no control in any other aspect of your life, it’s almost an uplifting reminder that yes, you do have control over something. But that’s all it is, the illusion of control. You WON’T go through with it, but you COULD go through with it. The bridge merely exemplifies this. Before I’d have to get a rope to hang myself with or buy a bunch of sleeping pills to overdose on, but now, here’s an option, so easily within my grasp! It’s literally around the block from my house! How could it be made any easier for me? But just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s the right course of action, and that’s what I have to remind myself of. Just because it’s something I could do, doesn’t mean it’s something I should do.

Honestly, I try to avoid walking across that bridge if I can. It’s not hard, as there’s sidewalks underneath on both sides of the street, so it’s not like the bridge is something I absolutely have to cross to get somewhere. But even then, unless I am unable to, I try to avoid crossing it by all means because simply being up on there makes it all the more tempting to jump off. It’s the allure of the concept. But the bravest thing I do every single day isn’t not taking that option, it’s admitting that I could take it. See, so many people always say “it’s so brave to fight with yourself every single day when you want to die!” but honestly, no, for me, it’s even more brave to admit that I want to die and could die at any given moment if I chose to do so. Admitting my mortality, and my hand in achieving the end of it, is the bravest thing I can do, because what it does is force me to admit, “Well, if I can kill myself, who says I can’t keep on living?”

To face both options, one more easy than the other, and instead choose the harder one, that’s not bravery. Not for me anyway. That’s just common sense. That’s just beating out the darkness that consumes my brain. But to admit I COULD kill myself, that I COULD end it all, to face that bleak reality head on and THEN instead walk the other way? That, to me, is what I do every day that is brave. Admitting I want to die, that I could die, accepting that reality, is my bravery. Bravery varies for everyone. I’m not saying it’s not brave for someone to continue living instead of dying, because sure, for a lot of people, that’s bravery too. But for me, on my personal level, what’s brave is admitting that I could stop it all right now. That it’s that goddamned simple and I have that much control over it. That I embrace that reality is what’s brave for me, instead of denying it to myself and instead forcing myself to smile day in and day out while feeling like a trash fire is burning inside of me.

So yeah. There’s a bridge near my house. It overlooks the railroad tracks.

Sometimes I walk on it. Most of the time I don’t.

But I will never jump from it. Because, fuck, that’d just be too easy, and why the hell should things start getting easy just when I decide to quit.

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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Close To Monsters #48

CTM22

This weeks comic is brought to you by the fact that nature, while pleasant, won’t cure your depression.

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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Milly & The Ghost: A Novel

https://payhip.com/b/1rui

A novel I wrote in 2016 is finally available, just in time for Halloween! Just kidding, it’s not spooky. It WILL make you cry though.

(2016) Milly Barnes is 11 years old and just lost her mother. After she tries hurting herself, her father becomes worried for her mental health, but she quickly finds solace in a new friend at school named Velma, a young artist named Chad, and a ghost living in her house named Milton, who says he just wants to help her. MILLY & THE GHOST is a story about losing what was the most important thing in your life, and doing whatever is necessary to keep moving forward, even if it means believing in something others might not. (53k words)
Anyway, there ya go. I’d be VERY appreciative if you bought/read this book. I’m also running a special over at my Patreon right now where if you sign up for the $5 dollar and up tier, you will receive a 10% off coupon for the book, plus other goodies! Anyway, enjoy!

Buy My Book!  Support Me Via Patreon! Donate To Our GoFundMe!

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”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!