You wake up earlier than usual, without the expected depression draping over you like a carefully placed blanket. You stay in bed for several minutes that turn into an hour, assessing, always assessing, if how you feel is accurate. If how you feel will change suddenly and catch you off guard. Tentatively, you rise. You have a desire to go out, yes, even this early. But your car is almost out of gas and you don’t have the luxury of having extra money to go out and buy a fancy latte and something to eat. You wonder what you’ll do for the day. You could work on a day like this, but fear and panic start to bubble to the surface. Because how long will this last? Feeling grounded, stable?
You try not to stress, absentmindedly picking at your scalp till it bleeds, watching out the front window as cars lazily roll by. You step into the kitchen, notice the coffee saved for you with a note, notice pancakes wrapped individually in the fridge. You realize you’re hungry, and set about slicing strawberries and grabbing the syrup and powdered sugar. You wash out a to-go coffee cup because you like the feel of it more than a mug. You heat everything up and bring it all to your room, where you adjust the lighting (the blinds on the window not open much, the warmth of your desk lamp aimed perfectly) as the mini fan hums in the background. You adjust, adjust, adjust until everything feels right… comfortable. As you’re eating, you think of chores you could help with around the house, while also indulging in the idea of falling back into bed, even though you’re not tired.
If you could live in a dream, you would. You’d pay thousands of dollars (that you don’t have) to let the government experiment on you. Maybe sacrifice your consciousness to live in a semi-conscious state. Or erase all memories and craft new ones, a new persona, that you could become. Of course, it would all be a dream, but does that make it less real? You marveled today at the simple act of waking up. Do other people question it too? How can they awake to another repeat of a day from their past? And even if every day brings a new outcome, or offers a choice one didn’t have before, the bigger picture never changes. You’d like to believe you’re important, significant, worthy… but there are millions like you. You’re not special, and you somehow find familiarity in the acceptance of that. In the mediocrity. Because it puts less strain, less pressure on you.
You wonder where to go from here, when it’s merely another day of existence. Will it ever feel worth the effort? There is so much you will never be able to change. The world will never learn. They will continue to support and fund genocides. They will continue to stay silent on systemic issues. They will continue to stay apathetic, because caring too much exhausts the mind and body. They (you) will stick to what is known, what is most convenient. You feel guilt for existing. What right do you have? You watch others believe they can make a difference, and you wish you could believe it too. You don’t want this cynicism. You don’t want this nihilism. You want to believe in a better world, but there’s too much tragedy. It feels foolish to have faith in something better.
