When will the Answers Come?


What is it like to be ghosted? You are waiting, sitting at your computer or just looking at your phone thinking, why haven’t they contacted me? What did I do wrong? I have had a love/hate relationship with a young man from New Zealand, who I call the Literary for quite some time. He is young, egotistical, stubborn and arrogant. But he is a master of words and is quite intelligent. Of all the roleplaying partners I have had, he was the best; the most detailed and the most impressive. He was able to invoke feelings in me that I haven’t had for any man in his own unique way.

This morning, after a night of no sleep, it is a dawn of a new day. It is Easter morning, and as I was trolling the underbelly of an Adult Chat Room on this Holy Day, I began to think for once. What is the point of all of this? The indifference I have felt for the internet and online relationships in the past few weeks has led me to different revelations. I don’t really care anymore. I blocked the Literary after he suddenly signed off on Skype without any warning. It may be months or weeks till I ever see him again, but I need to stay out of that Adult Chat since that’s where he found me tonight. Too many other people can find me there too. Sure I could change my username and go in as someone else, but I pride myself on being articulate so “Articulate Lady” will always be my name there. I crave good conversation. I crave substance. I crave a good night sleep and a proper schedule. I crave employment to have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

My impending review for my disability has left me crippled. I am dealing with the ups and downs of bipolar and am battling with it every day. I can’t break this obsession with that chatroom. I need to connect. I WANT to, so badly. It’s like a shot of dopamine every time I meet someone new and we have and amazing time communicating. You know that feeling when you get a “Like” on Facebook? That feeling you get when you get a “Like” on Instagram or Twitter? That’s what the connection of a person is for me in a chatroom. I need to be acknowledged. I need to be seen. But I want to make new connections. I need some substance in my life. This fucking review has me stunted. They are taking their sweet time coming up with a decision and every day that I have to wait before I look for a job has become excruciating. I need to fill my days.  I need some purpose in my life. I will be 37 years old, for gods sake, in June. Have I nothing to show for 37 years on this planet?

I don’t know. I am just swarming in an ambivalent pool of despair. My life is put on hold. I need surgery on my throat to remove the huge tumor that might be cancer. Yeah, I have that gem to worry about. And of course I can’t afford the medical bills of such a surgery. I can’t even afford the biopsy needed for it and I am on disability! I can’t afford anything, and I can’t even get good healthcare. God this country is a mess.

Anyway, I will just get through this Easter Sunday with a prayer. A prayer for my life to come together, for my life to have meaning. Strength to stay out of those life-sucking chatrooms. I need hope, and most of all I need love. It’s the one thing I have wished for, for so long. I want to be loved by someone. I want to matter. Why is this so hard? When will the answers come? Well I will find out next time, I suppose.

Stay tuned.

About shatteredwishes

I am in my late-thirties just trying to figure out life in a big city. "When in life you are handed lemons, make a vodka martini." "When I am happy I enjoy the music, but when I am sad I understand the lyrics."
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