Sometimes you just have to be as blunt as a hollowed-out cigar filled with the devils’ lettuce, and now it’s one of those times.
As a few of you will have noticed Loveable Loser has been existent as free as speech in North Korea the past few months. No weekly posts, not shameless Instagram and WordPress promotions and no begging people to read my work to fulfil my desire to be appreciated by people. Absolutely nada from Loveable Loser.
And truth be told, it’s been kinda shit.
The lack of anything from Loveable Loser isn’t because of a lack of ideas or someone threatening to vigorously lick my face and bite my ears off if I wrote something. It’s all been because of a solid battle with my mental health that went on for many rounds and months. April and May being the worst of the two months where I had no energy or life to me.
As someone lucky enough to escape the lockdown blues and not have to sit and stare at the same 4 walls on the daily for months at a time until December 2020, I never realised how lucky I actually was. At first, I thought it would be simple and pretty fun. I’m already a bit of a hermit and love to stay inside all day more than most people do, yet come a month into it I was breaking, and breaking harder than your back if you backdropped off a diving board onto some concrete centre blocks.
It was the prospect of prolonged months stagnating and not living the life I lead. The thought of spending weeks and months stuck in the house with no end in sight or ability to get back onto the road being the travel fanny was a heavy daunting prospect. I enjoy being inside for a while at times, I fucking love my hometown Troon and Scotland as a whole but there’s only so much I could take until the athlete’s foot ridden itchy feet took over.
The itchy feet took over so much that it lead to sheer desperation that involved taking some risks that affected me financially and caused me to be denied entry into one country, which was really not fun and a very low moment in my life. For months I was just desperate, desperate to get out and go live how I live, but obviously there was no chance of that happening as the mean old border restrictions were still kicking about the place.
However, as you can probably guess since I’m sitting here typing away with glee that I’m on the rise. Not fully recovered from the funk and retook those steps in progressing my mental health, but I’m back on that lovely wee windy road to a nicer place, like the road into Scotland from England. It may take a couple more months or even a year to get back to where I was mentally and it’s going to suck at times, but that’s just how life works.
So what’s ahead for everyone’s fave person that makes babies cry with their ugly face I hear you all ask?
The same old plugging away every day, trying to grow this site, dive deeper into other ventures I have in the works, get back to learning German and complaining about pointless things like when people walk incredibly slow in the street or how many times mothers post pictures of their children on social media. Essentially just the same old Swank, trying to get better mentally and still trying to be funny.
Swankie – 25, Scotland. Loveable Loser.