It's 3:48 in the morning, and I am sitting here pondering my future. Life feels like it's drifting away from me. The past is an unsettling mist clouding my thinking and making me feel depressed and anxious. I feel anxious most of the time these days. I wonder how to proceed forward, and it just feels pointless. I have no confidence in me anymore. The world tries to squeeze everything out of oneself, and I think there is nothing left to squeeze out of me. I was once full of ideas and loved to think of what might be, but today's society leaves one bereft of positive thought.
I want to be positive, but when one has a job one does not enjoy. A father with Alzheimers Disease who I sometimes feel enjoys life more than I do,
because he has no memory of the past, he lives in the present, the now and never seems unhappy. Living in the present is what Eckhart Tolle always mentions in his books. Obviously, that is not true, I cannot imagine what it must be like only knowing what is happening in front of you, but he never is down unless he is sick.
Mental illness is a disorder that projects negativity out on others; it does not just affect oneself but everyone around you. It is the self-fulfilling prophecy whirling around inside your brain until the brain gives up.
I am sitting and pondering my next steps, and I was looking at LinkedIn. I see by chance some names of people I used to work with, and I am not sure why I see them. I try to avoid them as I see they have been successful, which makes me more depressed. I'm pleased for them. They are wonderful, intelligent people, but it sickens me inside that I failed in life. I try to avoid most people from my past. I would love to ask them for help, but I could never ask. Asking for help is one of the hardest things you ever do, and why would they help me. As I said earlier, mental health affects those around you, and I did not make it easy on my friends. As my mother would have said when I was a child, 'it's your bed, you have to lie on it'.
Deep down, I know I have the ability, I've just spent nine months learning new skills, one easy one very difficult, but it does not bring any satisfaction. I feel like a newly blind person, who needs to be lead around unable to find any footing in any direction.
Anyway, here I am writing, which perhaps is a good sign. I have not been able to use my brain for anything bordering creative for a while. Every opportunity I try leads me down the wrong path, and then I look back at all the paths I have attempted, and I think to myself, is there anything left. Or I am doomed to live with depression, anxiety and the occasional manic attack, which used to be very enjoyable but also very destructive.
