…Don’t talk to me about life


Be advised, what follows are my current feelings, these feelings are subject to a change at a moments notice. I have been feeling this way since last Wednesday however so I feel I must put it in writing.  I am outside myself enough to be aware this may just be my perception of things colored by my current brain chemistry. I also realize that it may not be.

I don’t want to die, but I am tired of living. I know, me and Marvin the depressed android from HGttG. To be clear I am not suicidal.  Suicide would be cowardly and cause pain to those around me, I feel as if I am enough of an inconvenience as is.

What I am saying is that I have nothing to really big look forward to. Our weekly game night is the only thing interesting on my schedule. There are no holidays or events that excite me, most are just noted with a metaphorical head tip and some are just obligation.

All that stretches out before me seems one, long, dull grey blur.  A long mechanical process of work, eat, sleep, repeat. Eventually, my process breaking down into death. I am so very tired. A tired, damaged machine, relentlessly performing a money generating routine.

Try to do enough things to keep my spirits above water, why? So I can continue performing my function without my brain failing. Sometimes my interests feel pointless, but they stimulate my mind just enough to remind me what feeling good was like. So I keep at them.

Somewhere I heard someone say “get busy living or get busy dying” I now know that this is a stupid, selfish, and childish sentiment. We are always dying and we don’t only live for ourselves, not when there is at least one other person who needs us.

My sole reason for living is others, this is the meaning of my existence.

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