Sometimes I wonder why I’m even still around. It’s really hard when you just feel empty in a way.
By all means I’ve accomplished a lot in my short life. Probably more than most neurotypical people my age, but when you have no real fulfillment in life it’s really hard to celebrate those accomplishments nonetheless.
As a corollary, it is really difficult to have fulfillment in life when you have no fulfillment in your job or career. Every one of us spends a vast majority of our waking hours at our jobs. That’s just the fact of the matter. There are only about 14 hours of daylight on the longest days of the year and we spend at least 8 of those at work (and in most cases more than that). That leaves very little time for ourselves to pursue interests and hobbies outside of work. As such, having a job or career that brings one satisfaction and fulfillment is an absolute must to finding one’s happy place in life.
Unfortunately for me, that’s not and will never be the case. As I sit here on my lunch break typing this out, I’m already emotionally drained and only half of my work day is done. I’ll be quite frank here: my job sucks. My bosses suck. Most of my coworkers suck. Sure, I’m looking to maybe go elsewhere, but I’m afraid I’ll wind up the exact same as I am now: unfulfilled, empty and depressed.
Admittedly it is hard to take pride and joy in your work when you have to settle for a career that although might be lucrative is not what you really want to do in life. I truly envy those people who are living their dreams and love their work so much they become practically immersed in it. I realize that those people are truly few and far between but it sure would make life a hell of a lot easier.
The nihilistic side of me wants to believe it doesn’t really matter that much at the end of the day because we’re all going to die and when we do this all will be rendered meaningless (I do not believe in an afterlife or reincarnation of any kind), but I’d really like the in between to be as painless as possible, you know?
I look at all these mass shootings recently and as much as they wrench my gut, in some sort of sick, perverse way I envy those killed. I would gladly go in their place. I know the radical Islamist shooter thinks I’m just as worthy of death on account of my atheism as the gay folk were so it could have just as easily been me.
I don’t write this so anyone feels in any way sorry for me. It’s just how I feel. I wish I could feel better. I wish I could just “snap out of it.” For some of us happiness isn’t a choice and it’s totally impossible to feel happy due to both internal and external factors.
As much as I remain hopeful that things might one day be different for me, I don’t look for it to happen. On the other side of the catch-22 is if I commit suicide my family and what few friends I have would be totally devastated and I really don’t want to subject them to that. It does leave me in a tough spot.
Oh what to do?