Anon

Let me start off with apologizing, I would rather keep my name anonymous out of fear of lack of privacy. I am a customer of yours that just purchased one item of clothing. That’s it. One t-shirt. The story behind the experience itself I wanted to share. Again, my apologies about not using my true name or email address but I hope you can understand while I'm putting myself out to there to total strangers.

I’m older and much more experienced in life overall than others. I have no family, I have no kids, I have no friends, nothing. And I mean nothing. My life has failed to achieve even the normal of expectations that people have at my age. I wake up in the morning and I’m alone. I go to work caring for patients, I’m bullied by people and I’m alone. When I return home from work I return to an empty place with no one to share my life with. I'm alone. My disappointment to live life right now feels so low and is the equivalent of getting on my hands and knees and licking the curb. Its that bad. To wake up every day and know that its not getting better, nor has it even gotten a little bit better is an understatement. I am Pig-Pen, the fictional character in the "Peanuts" comic strip created by Charles M. Schulz who constantly has as cloud of dust follow him no matter where he goes. Well my cloud is a black cloud that just won’t go away. I ask God to help me with this constant failure for decades, mental hardship and human regret of how my life has turned into and he has been the same place for me when I needed help. Some place else.

Seeing people every day where I work, where I go for groceries, the people that I see on the street get what they want out of life and me knowing I will get my butt handed to me on a daily basis, emotionally, mentally, etc., with a constant reminder that no one cares, no one loves me or no one looks out for me is just beyond unbearable well past the words on this page. A few months ago I officially gave up on myself and any goals I had. I sold all my furniture, clothes, television, tables, etc and contacted a local cemetery to purchase a plot in the strangers single section. I currently have an empty place.

I planned on taking one last trip, by myself of course, out east and drive west towards my place just to see America one more time. I stapled my first and second contacts names and cell numbers to the inside of my door along with my living will for the police and EMT’s then I left and went to the airport. When my plane landed I reserved a car and headed west. I had no idea where I was going to stop at, no idea where I was going to sleep at and what attractions I was going to see, again, one last time. I went to a few museums and attractions along the way. Each one that I stopped at I saw families with the parents the same age or much younger than me or a husband and wife or boyfriend and girlfriend, witnessing what I wanted all along. What they have. Just someone to grow old with, someone who loves me for me, sharing experiences, supporting each other, maybe kids to raise and family memories to cherish. It was a dagger in the chest every time I got out of my car to see that in other people and know that that's not me. I felt that I’m not worth anyones time and I’m a failure in life.

When I got to a gas station in Wooster, OH I saw some people there with heavy metal t-shirts on, tattoos, some were dressed differently than what I was used to. One of them had an “Inkarceration” t-shirt on. I had no idea what that was and I wasn’t about to ask them in fear that they would laugh at me or make fun of me so I just googled it in my car. It said that it was a tattoo and heavy metal festival in Mansfield, OH, which I later learned was just west of where the gas station was and on that day. I was driving in that direction anyways so I decided to drive there and check it out.

I parked my car blocks and blocks away, hoping not to get towed, and entered the gate. I immediately saw the line of people there I realized I made a big mistake going. I had nothing in common with any of these people. I had no heavy metal shirt on, no tattoos, no piercings, none of that. I just followed the crowd of people there initially. I got something to eat, stood and watched a few of the bands then I went to walk around the grounds, knowing I don’t have anyone with me, yes I’m all alone, and I hope no one sees me or points out the obvious. I went around the grounds then saw the tents on the west part of the festival. I followed that around, got a hot dog, then saw a merch tent with the sign “Demons Behind Me”. I was expecting demon statues, demon necklaces, stuff like that. When I saw the was apparel I was curious what was there. Ever since I entered the ground I just looked down hoping that no one would make fun of me just like at home. I still wished I was invisible. I began looking at t-shirts and hats. Then a woman I never met before named “Nova”?, I think that was her name, smiled and said, “Hello, how are you today?”. She seemed very sincere and I almost started crying. She was wearing a white tank top with semicolon on it. Remember, I just sold everything I owned, flew out east, drove through three states one last time over the later part of three days with no phone calls or texts to me asking how I was, saw someone at a gas station with an Inkarceration t-shirt on, drove to Mansfield, OH (because it was on my way west) and someone finally asks me how I am. One person. I didn’t know what to say so I just half assed smiled and put my head down again. I looked down and almost started crying but my eyes definitely watered up. So I just tried to cover it up by bending over and started tying my shoes, pretending that everything was fine then I just stood and looked at the people in the tent. I walked around some more then went back to the tent again. I bought a t-shirt then walked back out, waited for Marilyn Manson to play then left and went to my car and continued to drive west.

I couldn’t get over the fact that someone smiled and asked me, which looked like it was sincere, how I was doing. That one person, again, not sure but I thought her name was Nova, she may have just saved my life.

After Inkarceration I drove all the way to Chicago then decided fly back west the rest of the way home to my empty apartment with my contact list and last will and testament still stapled to the inside of my door and an empty apartment wondering what am I going to do now. I just called to speak to someone professionally but I have to wait 6 months since there's not enough mental health professionals where I live but I guess I'll have to wait.

I’m still not good but I’m a little better than when I started this journey across the USA just one last time. That one interaction I had, to me, was pivotal. I apologize for rambling on this way but like I said, I have no family, no friends and no one in my life and I'm just sick and tired of being sick and tired of being alone. I've made mistakes in my life but, to me, not warranted to live a life like this. To live this long in life, doing what I do helping people every day in the hospital I work in, and have no one in your life is not only disappointing but humiliating and shameful at my age. Like you’ve lived this long and no one wanted you in their life. No one? Like you’re damaged goods or there’s something wrong with you to have lived this long and have no one. Zero.

Thank you for reading and take care.

Anon.