i swear i’m trying

I don’t feel any hope or excitement about the future right now. I’m very tempted to fall into a maladaptive daydream rabbit hole, which I know will just knock me out into a week-long depressive episode after I come to the realization that whatever it is that I really want could not be further from my actual life.

I wish I could fully commit to something, even if that something was completely giving up on life.

I’ve got nothing, really. I don’t have a home of my own, or money of my own. I’m bored in my relationship and only staying out of comfort. I don’t have a job, I didn’t finish my career, I have no job prospects, my “small business” is a failure. I’m forcing myself to keep going under the delusion if I just push myself hard enough, I’ll have everything I want. But maybe what I want is just not attainable. Maybe if I could settle for the kind of life that right now seems like a nightmare for me, the sort of life I look at and just think “if I was that person, I’d kill myself”, I wouldn’t be so miserable. Maybe then everything would stop being so hard.

I am angry at God. I don’t understand how Catholics can condemn suicide when the lives we’re forced to live are fucking unbearable.

At least when I’d delude myself into believing things would get better, I had a source of comfort. But now, all the thoughts I had about a future where I would be happy and fulfilled just seem ludicrous.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I had a good year. It feels so alien to me to see people who are actually happy with their lives. I try to mimic them, but I always come up so short and only realize how unattainable their lives are to me.

The most ridiculous part of all of this is that my therapist agreed that I was doing much better and that we could stop our sessions if I was ok with it. To be fair, I was feeling much better than I am now when we spoke two days ago, and honestly, I wanted to stop seeing her. It wasn’t helping me, it felt like every session she’d tell me the exact same thing and that talking to her was not really making any difference in my life. I kind of gave up, it just felt like a waste of time and money. So at least I’m relieved I’m not having to spend on that anymore.

I don’t think my life will get any better. I’ll keep running in the mornings and meditating and I’ll finish the fucking digital marketing course and I’ll keep trying to do whatever I can to make money because I prefer that to just lie in bed feeling miserable. At least being occupied makes time go by faster. But if I’m honest, I think I’ll just keep sinking until I’m too tired to keep swimming.

I’m very much at a “what the fuck is the point of anything” state. Sort of wishing I was dead. I get a sort of relief at the state of the world right, the fact that we’re on the brink of World War 3. It makes me feel slightly less inadequate. To see everyone fall into despair at the possibility of complete annihilation, I feel a little bit more accompanied. If we’re all miserable, it’s almost like nobody is.