The things that have meaning for me all feel out of reach. So they’re there, seeming amazing and exciting and worthwhile. But they’re not for me. They’re for those with different life experiences, aptitudes, personalities, bodies. Those with the ability to live in the moment and not analyze every single tiny thing. Those not gripped by fear.
The reward part of me says ‘yes, see, life has meaning, do something to get there!’. The execution part of my brain says ‘right….how exactly? How are we going to get there, when we can’t even go to a supermarket without being consumed by anxiety? Even if we could somehow cover it up for that long, we wouldn’t be able to actually enjoy the experience. Which is the whole point!’
Once you’ve retreated from life this far, I can’t see anyway back in. Everything is artificial. Everything you do is for the sake of it. Contrived. Nothing comes naturally. No experience is really meaningful. So why bother.
3 comments
Yes and no, sadly your here (as are others on this site) because we’re being honest and not denying reality and pretending everything is good, easy and has purpose, which no it probably doesn’t, and no life isn’t easy. But I’d rather be depressed and honest than fake happy and naive, well I guess that was more of a rant, but perhaps knowing not everyone turns a blind eye gives you some comfort.
I think I’d rather be ‘fake happy’, if I’m going to be here anyway. Better to believe that at some point it will all magically work out than to know that you can never get what you feel you need. If only I was better at lying to myself.
“go and seize the day”
sure, as long as the day doesn’t seize me first.
or anxiety
or depression
or bad memories
or bad friends
or financial problems
im starting to see why i don’t get out much