07/06/2012

I got the results of my blood tests in the mail today. Yesterday? Yesterday.

The good news is, I’m not dying. I’m not going through kidney failure and I don’t have any major infections. My cholesterol is decent, surprisingly. My vitamin D and B 12 were low.

My blood sugar was miserable, but I knew that was going to happen. Amazingly, that’s on track now.

I was anxious about the prospect of dying. I’m not sure why. There is some deep part of me that wants to live, I think, but I can’t figure out what for. I can’t decide what I want to do with my life. I vacillate between medical school, vet school, pharmacy school, and forensics. None of it holds my interest. I am without passion, without drive. I have no desire to do anything.

I do not know if I was born without the will to live, or if it just slowly bled away through some gaping wound in my psyche.

I’m twenty-five years old. I should be getting married, becoming established in a career, starting a family. But relationships with other people don’t hold much appeal. I am such a freak that I don’t think I could ever be in a relationship. In twenty-five years, I haven’t managed even a date. As for a career, I fucked that up by majoring in something useless and failing to get into graduate school. I can’t start a family. I’m so fucking sick, I have no business trying to nurture a new life.

So, I play video games. I write melodramatic fan fiction. I read books for people a decade younger than I am, and I lay awake at night wondering what the fuck I’m still around for.

It might be depression. But depression goes away. This apathy has been growing for years. Maybe there are some people who just aren’t meant to…live.

“Maybe life’s not for everyone,” says Blue October, and I wonder if they’re right.

That’s exactly how I feel. Never been on a date, no relationship history whatsoever. Majored in something useless and failed to get into grad school. Now nothing holds my interest, no desire to do anything, no passion anymore. What am I alive for? Everyone else seems to be doing life just fine. They all have dreams. Where are mine? I keep thinking maybe it’s the depression. But I’ve had severe depression for 7 years now. My passionlessness has only gotten stronger over that time. Isn’t it supposed to go away, or at least lessen? I don’t know. Maybe it’s only supposed to go away when my situation gets better, and it just hasn’t improved yet. I don’t know. Ugh.