As an anxious millennial just trying to make sense of the increasingly dynamic and entropic world we live in, I constantly wonder. Like anyone who has ever stepped foot on this place we call our collective home, I wonder where exactly I’m going in life.
Frankly put, the profundity hiding within this question has fueled my darkest of downward spirals into depression. Two years ago, near the onset of one of my worst suicidal episodes, I grew tired and worrisome of life simply because I didn’t think I was good at anything. That is, I had no clue where I was going in life.
And this element of life-laden uncertainty absolutely petrified me. It shook me down to my atrophied core. I was so fucking lost. I hated it. I looked around me and wondered: “how the hell are people so good at what they do?” They seem so happy, as if they know with utmost certitude where they’re going in life. I hated people and I became increasingly lonely and misanthropic. My melancholy had overcome me and I found myself more lost than I had ever been.
Then my suicidal thoughts came back. They followed me wherever I went and, as such, I felt trapped by my own ideas. Finally I had had enough. During one tiresome and dismal afternoon (while at an in-patient facility), I decided I was going to muster up the strength to kill myself.
Looking around, I wondered: “What am I leaving behind in this world?”
First and foremost, I was selfish. I would be leaving this world. There’d be no more of myself. However, that didn’t necessarily sadden me. What saddened me was the thought of my family losing me as they had fought so hard in order to help and placate me. But, unfortunately, I could no longer be placated. I was without incentive to be saved. I wanted out of this world.
I took the nearest object near me (a dull beard trimmer edge) and went to work on myself. Quite frankly, I tried as hard as I could to cut myself deeply, but I just couldn’t. Throughout it all, I kept thinking: “I’m ready; ready to leave.” And, I wanted to desperately. I cut and cut, but no blood materialized. My thoughts and the adrenaline that manifested were just too much. Looking up at what I had done to my body, I saw a glance of myself in the mirror. Now, in all candor, I forget what I thought immediately upon looking at my disheveled and unhinged self. But, the thought that has always stuck with me is my recollection of Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life”. It shocked me to my core and I began to cry. I could hear Iggy’s screams that he, despite all the drugs and all the depression that plagued him in his life, insisted that a “lust for life” was obtainable.
I simply needed that: a lust for life.
Eventually, I told a mental health worker about my attempt and I was placed in another facility for a couple of weeks. Throughout my arduous and emotional journey with depression, I’ve wondered if I can get through it; that is, if I can truly rise above like I so often revert back to.
Luckily, I can and I will.
Depression follows me wherever I go and always causes my anxiety, which in turn produces a depressive episode. Quite a vicious cycle. However, despite all my attempts in the past and all my lamentations with respect to living, I’m still here.
Feeling much better these days, I continue to wonder: “Where am I going in life?” Frankly, some days it does frighten me; other days it motivates me.
And yet I continue to wonder…
Question of the day: What do you wonder about on a daily basis and what do you think about when you go to bed and the moment you get up?
Take care, all!