Arvinneedstodie
Existing is not living
- Sep 17, 2018
- 200
I'm currently writing this post from my favorite spot of my favorite park. This is the first time I've stepped outside during the day in over 10 months, the first time I've been back in this park in over a year. I suffer from bad agoraphobia, among other worsening issues that have put me in a state of deep depression and isolation. I've been building myself up the past couple weeks to step outside and witness this solar eclipse today. I was finally able to step outside and I'm still sitting in this park, trying to piece together the racing thoughts and emotions in my head.
I didn't have the solar eclipse glasses, and I couldn't find one from any of the stores on the way to the park. I came to the park anyway, thinking surely someone else there would share their glasses with me. By the time i got to the park the eclipse was happening, and there were many groups of people watching. Against my social anxiety, I asked three people for the glasses, two of them politely rejected me in a cold manner. An older lady who was by herself handed me her glasses before I even finished my words. That was my only quick glimpse of the eclipse today. I thanked her and walked to a quieter corner of the park. While everyone was looking up, I was looking down and around. I was more amazed at the seagulls and ducks swimming around the water, it's been a while since I've been around nature. The park and the views of the water and skyline are pretty amazing.
I'm happy to be here, but I feel like a lonely ghost back in my favorite childhood park, surrounded by strangers from a different time. I feel like the loneliest person in this whole entire city, but then my estranged mother called me, asking if I'm watching the eclipse. I realized that I'm still luckly enough to have my mother who remembers my existence. There must be people out there who don't have anyone, not even their mothers. I'm 28, a rotten hollowed out zombie, rising from the shallow grave, hanging on by the last remaining thread of stubborn internal hope. How long until I become that someone who's truly alone. How much longer can I survive in this world like this. How long before i exhaust that last thread of hope and can no longer rise from the grave. Screw that underwhelming solar eclipse. Screw those cold people who can't even share their 2 dollar paper glasses, even though their groups had many glasses. Thank you old lady for maintaining that last ounce of kindness. The sea air is refreashing, the ducks are adorable, the seagulls are seagulls, the nature is better than I remembered, and man these views, these views are amazing.
I think I'm ready to finally come out of the isolation and hold my head above the water so i can take a hard look at where i am. I need to decide if I want to exhaust and exploit these last bits of hope until none is left, or do I want to hold on to them and leave with them. I hate the idea of leaving without clinging on to at least some last bits of hope, like a book ending without any room left for questions or what ifs. I don't know if im making any sense, but I'm in a conundrum here. I never thought I would live this long, it's been a confusing and detached life. I also didn't think I could ever come out to the park again, and here I am...
For anyone reading this, thank you for reading. For anyone out there who can remotely relate to me, I'm sorry if you're also lonely and hopeless. If you were here with me, I would do anything for you. I mean it, I would have braved against my anxiety and asked as many people as I could to get a pair of those glasses for you. I would have done way more for you than I did for myself today.
I didn't have the solar eclipse glasses, and I couldn't find one from any of the stores on the way to the park. I came to the park anyway, thinking surely someone else there would share their glasses with me. By the time i got to the park the eclipse was happening, and there were many groups of people watching. Against my social anxiety, I asked three people for the glasses, two of them politely rejected me in a cold manner. An older lady who was by herself handed me her glasses before I even finished my words. That was my only quick glimpse of the eclipse today. I thanked her and walked to a quieter corner of the park. While everyone was looking up, I was looking down and around. I was more amazed at the seagulls and ducks swimming around the water, it's been a while since I've been around nature. The park and the views of the water and skyline are pretty amazing.
I'm happy to be here, but I feel like a lonely ghost back in my favorite childhood park, surrounded by strangers from a different time. I feel like the loneliest person in this whole entire city, but then my estranged mother called me, asking if I'm watching the eclipse. I realized that I'm still luckly enough to have my mother who remembers my existence. There must be people out there who don't have anyone, not even their mothers. I'm 28, a rotten hollowed out zombie, rising from the shallow grave, hanging on by the last remaining thread of stubborn internal hope. How long until I become that someone who's truly alone. How much longer can I survive in this world like this. How long before i exhaust that last thread of hope and can no longer rise from the grave. Screw that underwhelming solar eclipse. Screw those cold people who can't even share their 2 dollar paper glasses, even though their groups had many glasses. Thank you old lady for maintaining that last ounce of kindness. The sea air is refreashing, the ducks are adorable, the seagulls are seagulls, the nature is better than I remembered, and man these views, these views are amazing.
I think I'm ready to finally come out of the isolation and hold my head above the water so i can take a hard look at where i am. I need to decide if I want to exhaust and exploit these last bits of hope until none is left, or do I want to hold on to them and leave with them. I hate the idea of leaving without clinging on to at least some last bits of hope, like a book ending without any room left for questions or what ifs. I don't know if im making any sense, but I'm in a conundrum here. I never thought I would live this long, it's been a confusing and detached life. I also didn't think I could ever come out to the park again, and here I am...
For anyone reading this, thank you for reading. For anyone out there who can remotely relate to me, I'm sorry if you're also lonely and hopeless. If you were here with me, I would do anything for you. I mean it, I would have braved against my anxiety and asked as many people as I could to get a pair of those glasses for you. I would have done way more for you than I did for myself today.
Last edited:
