Day 2
Let's try this again.
What is the point of this blog?
I guess it's to find some greater purpose or meaning in my life. I feel like I've spent most of life wandering aimlessly, not knowing what to do and where to go. There and peaks and valleys of this feeling, where during some periods it feels like I'm getting somewhere, I'm finding a better way to live, on the right path so to speak. But then there are periods like where I am currently, feeling lost, depressed, confused as to what's right and what's wrong.
This blog will be a journal of sorts of how I feel throughout different periods of life, basically a place to ramble about whatever comes up in my head.
Today's topic: Depression
The cycle repeats again
It seems like every time I think I'm out of it, it finds me again. Thoughts racing through my head, what is the point of this all? I'll just wake up tomorrow, and do everything I did today again. And again, and again, and again. What will I do when I graduate? I'm already socially awkward and never seem to have a consistent friend group, and won't it get harder once I'm out of university? What's the point of living, if I'm going to die anyways? What's the point of getting out of bed, if I'm going to spend the rest of the day wishing to be back in bed? I'm just an insignificant speck in a vast pool of primordial soup.
You can see quite quickly how my thoughts spiral and spiral deeper into the abyss of hell until the darkness consumes me and I start losing my mind. Although I may logically know that most of these thoughts are simply a pessimistic view coming out of my limited perspective on life, emotionally I still get stuck. I don't know where to go, how do I get out of this state??? Even while writing all this, I think of how bad my writing is, and how much it seems to have deteriorated over time due to the brain rot I consume online. Should I even publish this? Who's going to read it? Why are you even reading this slop?
And yet a part of me persists. For now, I am writing for myself. Maybe it's not a good idea to make my thoughts so public, but I'll do it anyway to have some sense of accountability. As much as I find socializing hard, I am still a social being. So far, the happiest moments of my life have always been spent around a group of people I love. So why is it so hard? Why do I fear talking with others, and meeting new people? It's this feeling of the cycle. It seems every time I try, although it works out for a while, eventually the friend group I develop falls apart. Eventually, we drift apart, someone makes a joke that goes too far, whether it's me or someone else.
And maybe it goes back to my trauma. It always seems to go back to my trauma. A dysfunctional family. A wish for something more. A wish for normalcy, a family system where I can express myself freely. Yet even who I am seems to be quite confusing, with how fragmented my personality feels. Who am I? This question has destroyed me many times in the past, as I could never find an answer I was satisfied with. I've come to accept that I don't know who I am. All I can go with is my gut instinct, what "feels" like me. Slowly, as life goes on, as I experience more things, I'll figure out who I am. Ironically, learning about who I am can only come from experiencing things outside of myself. Maybe I'll never figure out who I am. But then is this really that important? I know what makes me happy so far, and I'm learning more and more about the world as my life goes on. And maybe that's the purpose of life. To constantly learn, to go with the changing tides of life. To accept that there will be peaks and valleys, and to enjoy those moments regardless of where I'm going.
Regardless, I'll have to wake up again tomorrow to do this all over again. But maybe I can change something. And maybe eventually a path will show itself. A path I enjoy, a path I wake up excited to follow. That is all that keeps me going.
Though I may not know what the point of my life is yet, I'll keep going in search of my meaning.
