Monday, 7 April 2008

Shiny Happy People

It’s been awhile since i’ve said anything. A few times I’ve sat down to type and thought ’why bother’ and ’what’s the point’...feeling highly demoralized these days. Spend all my time just trying to stay afloat of things(what a stupid expression but so apt in my case) and meanwhile life just whizzes by....sans moi.

This isn’t a pity party for myself but simply a fact. Why does it seem like everyone is happier than me?! Sometimes I’ll sit at a street cafe sipping my trademark beverage (skinny wet cappucino with one brown sugar) and get hypnotized by all the cheery grins, spontaneous hugs and camraderie I witness.

Maybe it’s lack of friends? I do have them, I just don’t see them that much. ...and frankly the older I get the more they diminish - being replaced by ’acquaintances’ (yawn) - makeshift ’friends’ who you make do with and who make do with you. Terribly boring. Terribly unsatisfying.

I long for friends of old who would make me laugh till my stomach ached, who would know just what to say when i was depressed, or who would share my enthusiasm over the latest band i’d discovered. Yet it’s not that simple. Everyone has their own life, many have partners, some have kiddies, most have jobs....Maybe that’s the problem. Having left regular full-time employment a few years back I am now that sad cliche of ’struggling artist’, the title of which holds absolutely no glamour, many regrets and a deep panic that things will never work out the way I want them too or dreamed they would.

Of course this is me in full pessimistic mode. There are times when I feel ’sky’s the limit’ but it’s been so long since i’ve had a stroke of luck that I feel like the most mundane and ordinary of characters...a sob story whipped by the mediocrity of everyday...eeking out a bland, plain existence whilst everyone around me enjoys life.

Only three things for this: go straight back to bed, do not pass go, do not collect bugger all....or go do a spot of exercise to raise the happy brain chemicals which are so far letting me down (a walk round the park is the new prozac dontcha know?)...or go put on my threadbare old Cure t-shirt, hide away in my room and make like an angsty teenager while I play (very loudly) my favourite ’moany-groany’ music....starting with vintage Cocteau Twins...

Tara all you happy folk. I’m off to sulk...

2 comments:

Bunty said...

Dear dear, hard working, dedicated, well intentioned Moaning Mother. Thank god there's somebody else out there who's as big a moaner as me about this mother lark and makes me feel human. I get you! You're not alone. I too used to have a mind, a funky career, tight buns - now I have two small boys, under 22 months of age, no dress sense/care and diminishing returns of fun and joy beyond the golden crumbs of love that I'm occasionally thrown by my two. It's killing me. Every day I feel like another piece of me gets folded over and I become a tiny bit smaller. One day I'll just vanish altogether. Thank you for voicing your frustration/exhaustion/disillusionment. I know it's not all bad but my god it's tougher than I could ever have foreseen. If it weren't for you and Robert Elms BBC London Radio 94.9 I'd be tearing my hair out. Thank you.

"Moaning Mum" said...

thanks for getting in touch :)