I am depressed because I don't know what to do. About anything. My life, my continuing education, my career, my romantic life, my citizenship. Seriously, everything. I'm in a rut. So many questions, and I'm too overcome by depression to even start looking for answers. It's like I've got lead running through my veins instead of blood. I don't even write anymore.
I am functioning though. There's that, at least. And I know I need to get up off my ass if I'm gonna get anywhere. I do want to. It's just so hard; inertia, y'know. And I'm not quite sure where to start.
On the bright side, I guess this means that there's much for me to do and that life isn't a done deal by the age of 25, as my 15-years-younger self thought. That's a relief. And hey, I'm writing now, aren't I? That's as good a place to start as any.
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