I don’t frequent these feelings often, but when I do I’m scared. I get lost in the thought of hating everything I am. No faith for change, for adaptation. I wake up the same each day, my mindset doesn’t change. My energy comes sporadically, periodically through the day I’ll find small bursts of motivation. I know at the rate I’m going, I’ll be nothing. I’ll be nobody. Yet, with this knowledge, I still can’t get out of bed in the mornings. I don’t have the energy to brush my teeth, or take a shower. The dirt clothes have been piling up for over a month. I know I don’t want to be what I’m becoming, but I can’t change it. Why? I’m so scared, and I don’t know how to change.
As I grow older my mindset dips further as I start to get comfortable with the blurry reality. I work long hours doing something I hate. I take days off as much as possible to play video games that I don’t enjoy, even though I need the money. I chase a dream that died years ago. I’m stuck behind a wall of depression and fear. I hate being alive, but I’m afraid of death. I’m scared of what people will say, or what they’ll feel. I don’t want anyone to blame themselves if I ever hurt myself.
I take melatonin every night, but drink energy drinks in the day. I don’t need either of them, but they’re an excuse for myself to believe that I’m actually doing something in my life. I feel like if I need an outside source of energy, I’m exerting myself enough each day. And if I need to sleep, I have something important each morning. I’ve put my whole life into something that I’ll never be good enough for, so when is it a good time to give up? To stop believing in childish dreams? I’m turning twenty-three soon. My dream has been out of reach for four or five years now. Yet, I still want it more than anything. I can’t help but cry sometimes for little reason other than the fact that I’m not good enough.
Im not sure what my purpose is anymore, or if I even have one. All I know is I’m empty, I hate the feeling. I know I won’t be able to keep pushing when I have nothing left to give. So I’m scared to admit I think I’ll be nothing, because does that mean I’ll give up? That one day, I might not be so scared of death? If I’m not afraid of it, will I embrace it? I’m not so sure, but I assume I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll update here again if I keep sane for a few more months.