It's been a while, but I figured I'd pop in and share something that's been on my mind for a few days.
I'm tired. More like exhausted, existentially-speaking.
Words cannot express the existential exhaustion coursing through my veins and even sitting down to try to write about it in an attempt to calm my nerves. Try to exorcise these demons that have been plaguing me. While the current existential crisis is recent, ultimately, it's been going on for years, with waves of depression and anxiety.
Here goes nothing.
I'm tired of living in this hellhole of a country.
I'm tired of simply being and serving virtually no purpose in life.
I was laid off from my job of 4 1/2 years last March, and since then I've been under the assumption that having saved for the 6 years since I moved back in with my parents in 2015 would be enough to keep me afloat and sane and help lead me to bigger and better things. Following my dreams. Living the life I was meant to live.
But instead, I got saddled with the ongoing crippling depression and anxiety that didn't go anywhere (they were hardly recent). I had big dreams. My roommate and I were going to start a travel blog. We were going to monetize it. People were going to be interested in our tips and our info and our stories. I was going to tell our stories, I was going to share our pictures. We were going to sell stock photos on Adobe and Getty.
Reality's a bitch.
