whatever

I am weak. But I am trying to get better. Stronger. Faster. Endure more. More Pain. Less gain.

As days pass, the pain increases and the gain diminishes. During the darker-harder days, I catch myself lost in my thoughts. Imagining unholy things. To be honest, I don’t know where I am headed in my journey and I think that is a dangerous thing. God! After too many futile attempts to change destination, I am afraid that I don’t have the strength nor the discipline to carry out the plan even if I knew.

Depression is a nasty thing. Unless you keep it under control during the earlier days, by the time you notice, it is usually too late to fight. Seek external help. I am gonna blame neither Sweden, nor the lack of sun for my depression. I know the exact reason why I got depressed in the first place and I know exactly why I am in the same position this time.

It always starts with your mind wanting to tackle some insurmountable goal. Some impossible noble dream that you want to achieve in the far future. You break down the goals to smaller plans. Even smaller everyday act that you can practice. Everything is clear. There is nothing left except doing the task in front of you. But your weak willed undisciplined body JUST WONT MOVE. You slack. You stop being on top of your shit. You say, lets do it tomorrow. More you let something go by, harder it is to get everything else done. The number of days you clean your apartment gets wider. The hours you spend in your bed increases. Next thing you know, you are here. Your mountain of guilt and weakness staring back at you. Whispering, you are not enough.

For these past months, I have been waiting for that external force. A guardian angel to come and drag me out from this hell hole. Fix me up. Make me better. “Once that happens, I can start doing this and that” I say to myself. Sadly, life doesn’t work like that. No one is coming. With all these waiting, I have entered this paradoxical state of mind. It is almost as if I was waiting for a plane to arrive but I am stuck inside the terminal area. Constantly waiting by the gate without being able to do anything, but with no one to come. I am waiting until there is nothing to wait. To be brutally honest, it was my fault for believing in the first place. I have lived enough years to know. No one is coming.

I am gonna level with you. I am no one special. I have accomplished nothing. I am average in almost everything I touch but nothing more. That is me: average. I never truly cared about anything to actually excel. Even in my field, where I spent half of my life, I am nothing but an average developer who creates more bugs than he fixes. I know my weaknesses. But I am trying to get better. But not at the pace that I really want. That is the reason I am depressed. And I don’t need you reminding me that I could be doing better.

I am weak. But I am trying to get better. But in these recent days, I am wondering if I should.