I might as well come out and say it, I am never okay. Physically, Mentally, or Emotionally. I’m in constant fear of death as I waste away doing nothing with my life. I am not fit, and the most adventurous thing I’ve done in the past decade, if not my whole life, was moving into an apartment a year ago. I’ll be turning 29 this year. The inevitable oblivion that follows death scares me into submission, preventing me from doing anything outside my microscopic comfort zone. Trying new things or doing anything besides listening to the same 10 songs on a constant loop proves difficult as an invisible force weighs me down. The dreams and ideas I make have no purpose or meaning beyond trapping me in a fantasy world that repeats the same 5 moments on another constant loop. I can never finish stories, because their ending reminds me of my own coming demise. Why in god’s name am I like this? Why is it that no matter how therapists I see or pills I take I can’t be happy?