At the End of the Day

At the end of the day, the sun sets and everyone gets settled in for the night. They night pray or send goodnight texts to their loved ones. I don’t. I say goodnight to my mother and I head up to my room where I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Sometimes I watch videos or talk to people, but I mostly just stay in bed thinking.

Last night I thought about what I wanted to do with my life. As of late, I gave up on my plans and I honestly don’t know what I’m doing outside of working and this. I don’t know what I want anymore, and I feel lost. I’m trying to stay positive and think about the quiet snowfall I witnessed the other morning, but I’m torn inside about what to do.

Whether it’s my depression talking or this is how I truly feel, I honestly don’t know. I’m trying to stay focused on what I need to do but I’m struggling more and more. It could be the weather and I’m not getting enough sunlight, or maybe it’s something I’ve yet to realize. All I know is that I need to figure it out and keep it from eating me alive before I know what it is.

Depression, in short, is a fickle bitch. I’m starting to fight back, but it’s a long battle ahead. I just need to focus on the end goal and that everything has to get better.

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