I am unsure how to begin but I guess it’s something that has been staying inside for a while now and I need to let it out??? I am 32 years old, male, and in a situation where things are not as I would prefer them to be; not terrible or tragic or chaotic — just not what I expected, not fulfilling, not truly aligned with what I believed life would look like at this point. I go to work, I come home, I eat, I sleep, and then I repeat, and while the routine itself is not harmful or unhealthy or anything, it lacks warmth, it lacks color, it lacks anything that feels meaningful!!! Is that what growing up is about??? Being stable but entirely emotionally neutral??? Because if it is, I’m not happy!!!

My days feel long but the weeks fly by — isn’t that odd??? I sit at my desk, handle all my responsibilities, stay polite with coworkers, I answer calls, I go to meetings, I complete my tasks in time, and then I go home, and when I get there, it’s not like anything is waiting for me. It’s not depressing, it’s just flat. I don’t hate my life, but I certainly don’t love it either. There is no one waiting at home to talk to me, and I do not have the energy to reach out to others — not because I don’t care, but because I just don’t know what I would even say. “Hi, how are you?” seems fake. “Can we talk?” seems too much. I cook dinner, or I order something when I’m too tired, and I sit alone while I eat and scroll on my phone, but I don't even care what I’m looking at??? Why do we do this???

Weekends are the strangest part of it all. People look forward to them, don’t they??? Two days to do what you want — but what is it I even want anymore??? I used to go on hikes or meet with friends, but now everyone is busy or married or away or just not in that headspace. I clean my apartment, I do laundry, I water my plants — yes, I have plants, and they’re still alive somehow, which makes me feel like I’m doing okay, at least at the bare minimum. Sometimes I try new recipes or reorganize my shelves just to make the hours pass faster. It’s like I’m filling time with filler tasks, not because I want to but because I don’t want to sit still and think too much. But is that living??? Or just not dying???

I understand this all probably sounds dramatic but I assure you I am just being honest. I’m not sad. I’m not angry. I’m not even really anxious, which surprises me. I just... feel muted. And I think there must be other people out there who feel the same and maybe they also don’t talk about it much??? Maybe they’re sitting in their living rooms wondering what the point is, and wondering if they should be grateful for the peace or resentful for the emptiness. I’m not asking for sympathy — just wondering out loud, typing it here, hoping someone might read this and nod and say “yeah, same.” That would be enough for me!!! Just knowing someone out there understands, without needing to fix it or change it or judge it.

Still, I try to look ahead. I make lists of things to do that I might enjoy. I signed up for a language course — maybe learning something new will help, maybe meeting people through that will shift something. I even started jogging again last week, and my legs hated it but I kind of liked the effort, the movement, the sweat. It reminded me I’m still in there somewhere, still alive. I think hope doesn’t always come from big dreams or sudden joy, sometimes it’s just the choice to keep trying, even when it feels pointless; I’ll keep showing up, doing small things, adjusting when I can, and maybe eventually, things will feel lighter. Maybe that’s the point??? Not to feel amazing all the time, but just to keep moving until something clicks. Are you also not happy??? Maybe we’re not alone in this.

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