Due to my idiocy, I left my blog open last night before I went to sleep. Being gone most of the day, accomplishing tasks which others would deem as productive, but to me feels useless. After waking up, I went to the gym. I then spent four hours cleaning my car, and just the exterior of it. Because of me being busy pretty much the whole day, my family did not have a chance to talk to me. When I was finally finished this mindless tasks, I came home to relax. My father approached me sometime after. He said he read my blog. I'm uncertain as to how much he read. A good guess would be only the last post. Embarrassment rushed over me. My privacy began to feel violated. These are my thoughts, thoughts I don't really want anyone to know. Well, it does not make much sense that my blog is public, but it ultimately boils down to my fear of judgment from my father. I'm afraid to disappoint him. If he read the rest of the blog, including the posts about my depression and suicide ideation, it would have severley hurt him. My depression should be out in the open. It shouldnt be hidden.
My father said that there is no shame in taking pride in materalistic things because, in a sense, it is what drives us. He stated that if we did not want anything, we wouldn't do anything. Its logical to me. It creates an image that life is one stepping stone to the next, each representing a goal, or a desire, to be fufilled. The equation is constant struggle equals constant happiness. What happens if you dont achieve your goals? You slip. You fall. You get wet. Getting up on that next stone is even more difficult, harder to find the motivation and desire. My life feels like the majority of the stones have been lost, sunken. I wonder what point I have reached. My desire and drive to do productive things is absent. The stones are lost. When I look around all I can see is the vast ocean in which there is no direction to follow. I'm lost.
I have no idea about my future. I have no idea what I want, or what I should do. I don't know why I wake up in the morning. I don't know what I look forward to. I don't know what makes living my life worthwhile. I'm without direction, without aim. The only thing that is known, that is with purpose, is the suffering that I feel.