dear no one

dear no one,

i’ve been feeling down lately. actually, scratch that. i’ve been feeling down since i was 14 or so; i just never acknowledged or realized it. it’s a mixture of deep sadness and gut-wrenching anxiety every fucking day. i can’t even cry anymore. 

you see, when i was young, i wanted to be an artist. i used to draw a lot, and even receive praises and compliments from others who look at my craft (thanks, pa. i hope you’re resting in heaven). i believed i can draw. when i went to college to become a creative artist as an advertising student, turns out, i only know how to draw, but i’m not actually good at it. i witnessed every classmate of mine excel with their individual talents every semester. they had money to buy pen tablets, laptops, ipads etc. me? i was broke. i didn’t eve have a proper phone, i had to borrow my mom’s old one.

i had to stop doing art. the reason is that my art is useless in this field. this industry requires digital, creative, fun, marketable art. yeah i don’t make that. they put me in the production team, the one that only requires physical activities and no thinking whatsoever. it was a bummer at first because i also thought of myself as someone who has an average IQ . but then, i kinda like it. even though i became a helper/messenger that the account managers, copy writers, and artists abuses lol, i get to go to a lot of places. but somehow, along the way of me being in the production team, i eventually lost all will. i don’t even know what happened. 

months went on, my classmates eventually thought that i have a knack for writing. and so i was put into the copywriting team. although, i knew that they just needed more people in there who know how to write copies in english (not our mother language).  no shit, after spending time with my utterly smart batch mates, i decided this is the worst department i have been in and i don’t want this to be my job when i graduate (well, guess what, i’m a copywriter now. sucks). it’s the worst team there is. this job just sucks the happiness out of me. 

i used to say, i shouldn’t feel bad when my editor sends back my work for revision because i don’t even like this job in the first place. it’s okay if i’m not good at it because i’m not really good at it. but no. i had to be good at it because i have no other dreams. every time i go to work, i have to convince myself not to have an anxiety attack. then, depression kicks in mid-shift. i don’t know what to do anymore.

if i let this go, i’ll be a nobody. i can’t do things other than writing, which i am also bad at. look at this shit i’m writing. bad grammar, punctuations, spacings, and capitalizations. 

yesterday, i thought: i wish i could go back to the past and change my path. then, today i suddenly want time to move very very fast. fast enough for me to reach the time of my death. please. 

people say, you deserve to be happy, everyone deserves to be happy… why? why do we have to deserve happiness? can’t we just be?