Regular readers will know that I’m going through a bit of a Rough Patch at the minute, to say the least. Tonight it’s hitting me particularly hard, for various reasons that I shan’t go into in detail. I wanted to talk a little more generally, as I find this often helps me sort things out in my mind a bit.

The thing that’s making me feel particularly bleak right now is that it feels like there’s no end in sight for this Rough Patch. I don’t know how to resolve it; I don’t know how to “fix” it. I feel like I’ve messed up — not once, not twice, but repeatedly, and I’m now reaping the anti-rewards that are the consequence of all the things I’ve done wrong in my life, all the poor choices I’ve made.

For sure, I know that I have made plenty of poor choices along the way, but many of them didn’t seem like it at the time — and rationally speaking, I also know that I’m not the only one to blame for my current situation. The blame for that can be laid at the feet of a wide variety of people, including me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with — particularly as many of the non-me people that I blame for this situation are essentially “untouchable” despite me wanting nothing more than to at the very least yell at them and, were I feeling particularly feisty that day, slug them one right in the face.

Mostly I’m just frustrated because I’m not sure I deserve this. I feel like I have plenty to offer the world, and no way of making it clear to everyone that I matter, that I have value. I have friends and family, sure — both local and far-away — and that knowledge, to an extent, takes care of part of my emotional well-being, but it doesn’t pay the bills, and it doesn’t give me a sense of satisfaction that I am, in any way, making the most of my existence. Were I to drop dead tomorrow, 1) would anyone notice? and 2) would I be remembered for anything particularly worthwhile? Again, rationally speaking, I know the answer to both of those questions is probably “yes” — and I’m not planning on dropping dead tomorrow — but it’s difficult to remember that sometimes when you find yourself struggling to stay afloat.

I really don’t know what to do any more. For every bit of progress I feel like I make, I suffer some sort of setback. I end up not going anywhere — and, in the worst case, going backwards. When I left university, I was a teacher earning over £25k a year. Later, I had my dream job of writing about games for slightly less than that. Now I’m looking at retail jobs with wages of a relative pittance in comparison, on the grounds that 1) I feel like I can do them and 2) that’s all I feel like I can convince prospective employers I’m good for. (Not that there’s anything wrong with retail, obviously; it just feels like all that education was a bit of a waste, is all.)

I’ll figure something out. Bad things have happened to me before and I made it through. And on those past occasions, it felt like I was drowning in black tar, with no means of escape visible in any direction — and yet I still did. I have no reason to believe this time will be any different; it’s just a matter of when I can see the shoreline at the edge of this inky sea. At the moment it’s somewhere beyond the horizon.