November 17, 2017 in Journal 1

As I said yesterday, I feel like I’m coming out of the funk. Unfortunately, I’ve woken up to find that I lost interest in all of the things I have invested my life in.
This depression is like a house with a thousand doors and twisted hallways when all I want to do is find the exit. I keep searching for the exit– opening every door– but most doors lead to no where– a dead end– while other doors take me further into the wretched house without my knowing. I think I’ve only gotten further into the house this time. This time, it’s taken away my fire and passion.
I just have no fire anymore. I usually go through the day with a fire in my chest and a heart aching to do a million things– to learn and create a million things. But, I don’t feel that fire anymore. In fact, my chest feels empty and my heart feels inert. The only affinity I have is for my bed and for the sleep that I will therein find.
This is so frustrating because I can do two things: 1. Accept that I am a different person now and try to find happiness as this new person, or 2. Reject this “new person” and keep on the path I am on now until I become the person I once was. The first choice would be an easy way out for now, but will likely bring me trouble and regret in the future; while the latter choice will be excruciatingly difficult for now, but will likely bring me joy in the future– if not, at least a very small amount of regret.
I think I’m going to have to choose option 2, because I don’t want regret hanging over my head for the rest of my life and I definitely don’t want to disappoint my family and friends.

I’m only 20 years old and life seems so long. Thinking about how much longer I have to live doesn’t make me hopeful, it makes me tired. How do people go 80/90 years without dropping dead of exhaustion? How do most people not just want to end their lives? How do other people think? What is it like not to be broken?