I’m not here to whinge about the sorts of things depressed people do. Yeah, life sucks, and for my generation, we learned that from The Princess Bride.
But a week into this hell, I find myself unable to identify what a light at the end the the tunnel would even look like, and whether there’s any way to distinguish it from a train.
I know many of you have it worse than I do, and I’m not trying to suggest otherwise. My job no longer exists. That’s small potatoes against fearing for your life. But this is one battle too many. I’m using short, declarative sentences.
I called my mom today, and it came up that I have no active plans, but I’d not so much complain about not waking up tomorrow. I’m just exhausted. Things have been going backward for 20-plus years, and we were able to paper over it for about three.
What hope is there? I did a coding bootcamp in 2021 because I had nothing official on my resume, and JS was going to be easy. So. Writing is worthless. Editing is worthless. Fact-checking is worthless. Print design is worthless. Navigating data when it’s not in your job description is worthless. And god forbid you attempt to code without your handlers’ approval.
I don’t see what comes next.
I don’t know. I’m lucky that I’m a teacher and education hasn’t been too fucked over in my state, so I’m in a pretty good position currently. But I want to believe that no matter what happens, my priorities are going to be finding community and looking out for each other and resisting for the sake of resisting. I don’t know. I’ve never wanted kids, so I guess there’s something biologically off with me since it don’t want to keep my genes going. But something about me wants to keep my ideals going. Not sure if you’re trying to find reasons to stay alive, but maybe that could be one.