Sometimes I feel like I’m floating aimless in a sea, not interested in the who’s and what’s around me. All that I’m aware of are me and my thoughts. Sometimes there isn’t even that. I stare blankly into space and there is not a single thought going through my mind. It’s like I’m being pulled into a vacuum and my thoughts are in limbo, not fully formed, impossible to decipher. Sometimes I think there is something wrong with me. No, I know there is something wrong with me. Normal people have thoughts, opinions, interests, emotions. Normal people care.
I used to be one of those normal people. I wanted to be a writer. I dreamed of changing the world with my words. I dreamed of finding love. I had an opinion on anything and everything. I cared. Now? Not so much. I probably wouldn’t give two shits if a car accident or something took my life right now. I’ve become lazy, uninspired, complacent. I can’t find inspiration in anything. I don’t yearn for love anymore. I am content with solitude and I am only twenty two!
When I do interact with people, it’s superficial. I don’t – I can’t open up. There is a wall around me no one seems to be able to break down. Not that I want anyone to. They would find nothing good in there.
I’m constantly trying to put some distance in between myself and my family – the only people who have, I believe, ever loved me. And that’s probably only because we’re family.
I don’t understand me. Is this a phase I’m going through? If this is an existential crisis that I am going through, then I have been going through it for the past six years.
All I know is that I am discontent. I want more. But I don’t know what I want. Even though my life is anything but empty, all I see, hear and feel is nothingness.