Nothing’s wrong… go back to sleep.

I really worry that nothing could be wrong with me. Unlike most people, I don’t experience typical signs of depression. I don’t feel inferior to others or feel sad all day. I just feel like there is no point to life, and therefore, I want to end it because I am going to die sooner or later, and nothing I accomplish has any inherent value. I have a generally negative outlook on life, but I also believe I am more aware of global issues than my family. My stepfather is a hotheaded, homophobic racist. My mother is quite the average see-what-I-want-to-see Christian. She’s wearing rose-tinted glasses and drinking from her glass that’s half full. I can’t have a satisfying conversation with anyone, because almost everyone where I live seems the same. They all have similar ideas that are drastically different from mine. They look at the simple things in life and that makes them happy. I have a habit to mentally delve into a topic or ruminate, and it loses all of its pleasure. I will often think about what happiness is, how it is composed of matter, what matter may be, and so on, until I conclude that life is actually devoid of emotions, that we are really just puppets or robots. I feel like I’m being forced to live.