depression

I kind of want to blog something, but I feel like all it’s going to be is depressing and not good reading. I haven’t been keeping up to my blog like I used to, for various reasons and none of which I can really put my finger on.

Lately everything seems to be going a little bit wrong for me. The last couple of years have not been the best, and this year seems to have gone from bad to worse. Maybe it’s ‘The Curse of the Odd Year’ or maybe it’s just a self fulfilling prophesy.

I blogged last year about careers and setting up the business. I did manage to make it on time, more or less, with my ‘baby’ idea. I.e. to set up the business within 9 months. I did achieve it, but at what price? The first fair in October was pretty dismal – everyone did really bad with sales, apart from maybe one person (EJ) who did well with sales and was positive about it. Two people took their bat home at 3 o’clock as they made nothing. Subsequently some people have made their feelings known that they also didn’t do well.

The second fair was hard to fill and I was on the brink of cancelling it. I got quite a few people to come, and had some help making up the numbers, some of my people dropped out (bully for me). It was a loss basically and made no new friends there.

It’s like I had my first baby and everyone called it ugly, then I had a miscarriage.

No disrespect to anyone with babies, but I’m just trying to put my point across that this is how heart broken I am.

It really was like every fear I had about doing fairs came true. What I REALLY wanted to happen was to have a really successful first fair, then everyone would follow me to the second one. What actually happened was my first fair was a crap one and No-one followed me. It also feels like I’ve lost them forever, as none of them even answered my email about the 29th fair….some only did when pushed to.

I’m tainted as a bad organiser, and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

The week of the second fair I lost my little kitten, and to me that really is like losing a baby. I know death too well, and that just cemented all those fears I had before even getting new cats. I thought that I’d have a good 15 years to forget about those negative feelings before having to bury another cat. I was wrong. It hurts.

I really wanted to be in the creative business. I really wanted an occupation rather than a simple job. I have a modest lifestyle, I don’t need money or things to live – I need food and a house. £100 pound a week would do me. I just wanted to make something wonderful. For people to think it was a good thing and follow me, support me, say “Yes, finally someone is helping us”.

What they really said was “Well that was sh*t wasn’t it?”

The bottom line is, I feel like I’m always battling against people. Opening my emails to a barrage of “NOs”, and “It’s YOUR faults”.

I try to help, whenever I can, and people just don’t seem to realise. I’m done. I’m tired. I’m finished.