All Talk, No Action

I had been dreaming of buying a 3ds for the guts of two years; researching new games as they came out and visiting secondhand computer shops to drool over them longingly. Being handheld console with the graphics of a plugin one, with a ream of games, both classics remastered and new titles alike, it seemed like the perfect console. I was sure it would make me happy.
Last week, I finally bought one. Spending my entire 200 euro Christmas money on the console and one game. It was way out of my price range, and I definitely would have been better off spending that money on something much less discretionary, such as rent or food.
But I thought it would make me happy, so I bought it.
Now don’t get me wrong. The 3d graphics are spellbinding. It feels great and sits comfortably in your hand. The addition of the circle pad on the left-hand side makes gameplay run smoother than I could have ever imagined. The story of the game I got (Zelda: A Link Between Worlds, if anyone cares..) is captivating and addictive. I haven’t got a single complaint to make.

But I was still disappointed. I think that somewhere within me, I had imagined that a product would be my secret key to happiness. Even though deep down I knew this could never be true, I was clutching at straws of desperation because being content is something I no longer know. I’ve tried so many things to be happy.
I thought being skinny would make me happy, so I lost weight.
I thought eating shite again would make me happy, so I did.
I thought getting a good leaving cert would make me happy, so I studied hard and did really well.
I thought getting a job would make me happy, so I looked for one.
I thought being unemployed would make me happy, so I was for a while.
I thought moving to Galway for college would make me happy, so off I went.
I thought moving away from Galway would make me happy, so I left for Dublin.
You get the idea. I’ve tried it all. There is no way for me to be happy and I just have to accept it. And as for coping strategies; you name it and I have tried it; reckless sex, getting drunk, doing drugs, burning myself, not eating, eating, smashing plates, medication, counselling. Some of those are more socially acceptable than others but the thing to take note of is that nothing worked. Some things work briefly but there is no long term solution. You just have to suffer on.

I hate being like this. I am such an energy vampire. All I do is suck the life out of everyone. My brother told me to “stop being so negative, or at least internalise it.” This left me feeling distraught but I can see his point. If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t want to have a whiney, complaining, seemingly spoilt little sister whos’ always bringing the mood down either.

As much as I can, I try to mask the pain with laughter and false cheeriness. My dad always talks of the song “Tears of a Clown” and I can relate to the title so much. I’m the dud, the clown, the jokester that no one takes seriously. I hid my feelings behind jokes and laughs for years but I just don’t have the energy to hide it anymore. I’m sick of pretending to be okay.

I keep writing to everyone looking for some intelligent conversation but everyone only cares about looks and celebrities and mundane shit like that. I just don’t have any interest in what this world has become. It’s all disillusionment and happiness seems to only be an imagined thing. Our online personas have become everything. It is more important to put up a status about how you’re enjoying something rather than just actually enjoying it. This world is a joke and I don’t want to be part of it.