Ben Archer Posted November 4, 2010 Report Share Posted November 4, 2010 I just woke up and lay in bed for about an hour pondering where I went wrong in my life, so many times, to lead me to this depressed pitiful state I'm in now. I'm 26 and I rent a small house, on the same property as my dad's (the guest house). I should say "rent" since I haven't paid him in months, as I haven't been working. I usually work for him, doing website work and warehouse stuff for the family business. Now I only put in hours when I have to (which is when he basically threatens to have the police throw me out). He's been trying to kick me out for a while. I've been inside this place for a solid week now, surviving off the bare minimum of food. Yesterday I had some oatmeal and some pasta with butter. Today I haven't eaten yet. I usually wait until I get unbearably hungry. This is mostly just because of laziness. My wall is has a cork board tacked with quotes from Ayn Rand that I used to look at when I was trying to get better. My head however is filled with suicidal thoughts and pathetic excuses. This isn't how I wanted to say all this. I wanted to try to write about how I get depressed for months, then snap out of it by making some drastic change or traveling somewhere. But then I get dragged down again because I can't really run from the inherit problems that lead me to depression. I think the main ones are social phobia, which I've tried (unsuccessfully) to get therapy for, for a year; and lack of purpose. Social phobia I've dealt with since childhood. It's not something I care too much about anymore...but lack of purpose is my latest theory and is probably the reason I give up on life so many times. Over the last 10 years or so I've gone through about 5 or 6 periods of intense depression, usually lasting 6 to 9 months. When I'm not depressed I'm usually in some kind of job that occupies me, or college. I have a purpose...but what I went to college for (physical therapy) isn't what I'm interested in doing anymore. The current job available to me, I hate. Working for my dad has been my main job since I was 15, and I'm tired of it. We get along terribly. When I have a purpose, I'm too busy to be sad I suppose. I did well in college, and I wanted to get a job that would challenge me and that would allow me to use my mind to its fullest. I wanted to create music but I feel like peter keating trying to paint. Don't get me wrong, I think I could do it and that I"m good (unlike keating) ...I just don't think it's a viable field. Then I thought that I'd enjoy teaching kids music—I've always enjoyed working with kids—but that it'd be a low paying job I'd end up hating because of how screwed public education is. This is the most haphazard BS I've ever written. I'm usually a better writer but it's hard enough to even write about this. It's hard to think it has a point. It's hard to admit how low I've come, especially to a group of objectivists. I always envied the mindset of Hank Reardon when he was walking home from work, wondering how people could be unhappy, and how he never understood it. Or roark, who seemed to be able to be happy working in a quarry, since that's probably the only type of job I can get right now. But whenever I think about being reduced to some shitty mindless job the thought of suicide immediately pops in my mind, since I never saw myself being reduced to that, and couldn't live that life. Course I'm sure there's people working in quarries or McDonalds who are a lot happier than me. I'm tempted to just Ctrl + A and delete but hell with it. Curious to see if any of you have experienced this. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.