Loneliness is the Ultimate Poverty

The light from my window shone down onto my face. I was curled onto the old, ripped couch. The dark room left me feeling completely isolated.

            Alone.

            I had never felt more alone than I had now. This empty room, so small, was all I had. An ancient desk, crumbled papers, broken television, unused cell phone. The few possessions I owned were all I had.

            Oh yes, I had friends. Or, what are supposed to be friends. They haven’t called me in months. I doubt they ever will again.

            I had family. Not that they cared. My mother would come home from work and sleep until morning. My father stayed home all day and drank himself into a coma while he watched sports. My brother and sister had places to go, friends to be with.

            And me? Why didn’t I go to the parties?

            I wasn’t wanted there. That was clear. They made it so, so crystal clear.

            I had stopped going to school three weeks ago. I couldn’t take it. It wasn’t even the taunts and teasing. No, those had stopped.

            It was the isolation.

            I couldn’t take it. I went from having friends, to having enemies, to having no one.

            There was no one for me to turn to. My dog had died, my siblings shunned me. Hell, even my mind was against me.

            When your mind hates you, you know there is a problem.                

            I can’t blame anyone, though. I brought this upon myself. I really did. Psychotic meltdowns, anxiety attacks, violent rages. I drove them all away with my craziness.

            And now I was alone.

            Isolation drove away the breakdowns for a little while. Without the social pressures and exposure to the world, my mind relaxed. Yet later, I just started craving human interaction.

            I tried writing poetry, hoping that it could help me. It did, but it wasn’t enough. I tried to call some people. I called who I thought was my best friend. I told her I was better, but she wouldn’t listen. Her words were cold. I missed my warm, loving friend. I started working on getting close to my siblings, but they hated me. I used to have a nice relationship with them. Now, I was just their embarrassing, messed up sister.

            I pulled myself off the couch, and slowly walked to the window. I opened it and looked out, looking out into a city of life. Why couldn’t I be there? Why couldn’t I have fun with everyone else? I wanted a life I couldn’t have. A life my mind wouldn’t let me have.

            There, leaning out that window, I felt like jumping. Jumping from the 10^thfloor, and getting away from this.

            I closed the window. Curled back onto my couch. Crying in my isolation.

           I would always just be alone.

Reviews

[prettyboy]

Gorgeous...loved this.
"When your mind hates you you know there is a problem."