Trying To Figure Out “Why I’m Here”


Happy New Year, everyone.

This is all relatively new to me.

Not the writing bit. I’ve been writing for 20 years. It’s the publishing bit that’s new. I don’t even know what to write, but I’ll let my fingers move across these keys and we’ll see what we come up with.

Honestly, I’m feeling a little out of it today. Have been for the past few days. And I’ll be honest. When I started off the year, I told myself that I wouldn’t dwell in the negative feelings. I had an ABSOLUTELY SHIT 2019, so I promised myself that I would actively ensure that my 2020 is one million times better.

Granted, it was an incident that upset me, and as the days have gone on, I’ve been less affected, but it’s weird, you know? The thing that initially upset me isn’t necessarily a factor anymore, inasmuch as it is a catalyst reminding me of all the parts of my life I’m unhappy with. It’s left me sitting here asking myself, “Why am I here?”

I read this article about why humans are almost hard-wired to be “attracted” to negativity [https://www.verywellmind.com/negative-bias-4589618] and I just…I have this thing where I never want to be compared to anyone, so immediately I read that I thought, “Whoa. Time to start being “attracted” to positivity, but it’s difficult, you know? I literally cannot be bothered anymore.

The other day, a friend of mine said, “I appreciate you.” and my immediate thought was, “Oh, get TF out of here with that.” Stopped me in my tracks because…what? Why couldn’t I have just thought, “Aww…that’s sweet.” and respond with a “Thank You!”?

The “Why am I here?” question sounds a little morbid, I’ll admit, but honestly…why am I here? I mean, I don’t want to die, but I didn’t ask to be here. And if I’m here for a reason, what is the reason? Why haven’t I figured it out yet? Why don’t I have the things I want? What do I even want? Have I been working towards them, or do I just think I have?

What am I doing here, at this stage in my life? I’m really trying to get to the part of my life where shit actually makes sense, you know? I don’t even mind the stress and strife, if there’s a reason for it. But I’m scared that I’m going to be so tired by the time that things start making sense that I won’t even have the energy to enjoy that part of my life. I’m going to get all the money I said I wanted, the family I’ve been dreaming of, but I’ll be too emotionally drained to actually be who they need me to be. Or even to allow them to be who I need them to be to me…

It’s been about a month since I started writing this post and some feelings have changed. I’m managing my anxiety a little easier now, but I still question what I’m doing here. A lot of deaths have been happening around us and I don’t want to die and have my soul caught in some abyss somewhere, wondering why I never enjoyed the life I was given, and is now stuck with a bunch of melancholy thoughts. Knowing my obsessive ass, I’d probably go through those memories for all of eternity and sink myself into some kind of post-mortem supernatural depression.

At any given point, there are 17,987 things running through my mind, and I didn’t want this to be my writing introduction to the world, but…this is how I’m feeling right now, so…we’ll see….

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