avoidant

I feel so far from a meaningful life. And it’s so hard to take even a tiny step in the right direction. Because I know that once I’ve exerted the effort, and put myself through the ordeal, I will still be effectively in exactly the same place. I will still go to bed tonight tormented by all of the things I missed out on in life. And I will still wake up tomorrow exhausted, not wanting to face the world.

It would take so much consistent effort to get myself even close to something different. And I just can’t bring myself to do it. Every tiny thing is exhausting to me, like I’m dragging this huge boulder of despair behind me.

If I’m not going to kill myself, then it makes sense to try to minimize the regret and misery in my life. And that requires huge changes. And I’m not doing it. I’m trying, or I’m telling myself I’m trying. I make lists, I plan, I read things. I sometimes even try small new things. But I’m not approaching it with anything like the drive and consistency I’d need to actually get somewhere. My body is decaying at a faster rate than I’m making progress. At this rate, I would need 1000 years to get anywhere.

I just don’t have it in me. I don’t think it’s that I don’t want it enough. I think it’s that I don’t believe in it enough. On some level, I think that even if I made all the necessary changes, there would still be something fundamentally broken in me that would make it all pointless. So it wouldn’t actually feel any better.

And I know that’s a pointless self-defeating attitude. I just can’t seem to shake it.