This life will be short. I’ll exist and then I won’t. So very few of us make any dent that outlasts our own breaths. The highest suicide rate is among men in their 50s. It’s 19%.
I imagine my mirror image at that age. You have less than half your life left. You look back at the decisions you’ve made and wonder. Was it worth it? Did I choose the right path? And the truth of monotony and normalcy runs like a current. We are nothing unless we are something.
But then again, to some degree that contradicts many spiritual teachings. What is self-realization?
I have been awake every day for 22 years, but have I ever really been awake?
I’ve never been in a point in my life where I have as much free time as I have right now. I feel that I’ve been as low as I am right now before. No matter how busy I was, I fought this internal chaos. But now… I feel that it’s all I surround myself with. I have graduated from college. I have traveled the world. Now I’m back in Arcata but feel frozen. I am not even applying to jobs. But every morning I wake up and think about how lazy and awful I am, and stare at the ceiling for hours. Yesterday I didn’t get out of bed until nearly 5 pm. It was hell. Does anyone else out there experience the darkness that I do?
I’m not in a war torn area. I was born privileged. I have had color in my memories. I have meaningful friendships and am surrounded by positive people. Yet I still find myself in this haze. It’s manifests in silence some days, in rage others. But I only face it when I am alone. When I am with people I play a version of myself where this darkness does not exist. I wonder if anyone notices how sad I am?
The decisions that I have made up to this point have brought me here. I’ve had little forward thinking and cannot afford to waste any more time. I need to capitalize on my youth, my time, my skills… I should be doing all that’s in my power to swing a gig in Arcata right now, and hopefully will move to Seattle in due time for graduate school. But will I ever apply? Will I ever make something of this life?