Today on my way home from school, I stopped in the middle of the countryside. Just parked my car right there on the side of the road. Away from any barns. Away from any cars, any workers, buildings, people. I was truly as isolated as I feel.
I stepped out of my car. I stared out into the country side for a bit. Then I just…
Screamed
I don’t really know why. This guttural, primal sound left my lips, a sound that I had never made before. I screamed so loud I startled myself. I screamed so hard I think I hurt myself, my throat still hurts. I screamed out to the world looking for an answer I suppose; a reason to live. But the world didn’t say anything in response. It simply listened. I think if the world could talk it would have said “Pipe down buddy. You’re not the only one with problems.” I’m sure the world has to listen to lots of people screaming.
I feel as though I have truly become devoid of all purpose. I’m certainly not living for myself anymore, maybe that’s the problem. As of now I’m living for my parents because they would be heartbroken if I left them, and this impossible pipe dream that if I get better and improve myself I MIGHT have a chance of getting back together with my beloved. This won’t happen of course, but any delusion is a good one if it keeps me breathing.
I don’t know where to look. How does one search for purpose? Motivation?
I try not to make excuses. I hate people who hide behind labels given to them by doctors. Feels lazy. Despite me being given ANOTHER new label, institutionalized depression, I try to push that to the side when attempting to figure out how to proceed. Maybe not addressing it is the problem? But it feels like a lose-lose. I either address it and use the label as an excuse when things go wrong, or I don’t and attempt to rebuild myself using nothing.
Everything just seems so pointless, directionless, meaningless,
just like my scream.
Leave a Reply