But so much shit has happened in my life that I'm questioning whether I even have a life, or if what I thought was 'my life' is actually an illusion, or maybe a delusion .
Because it doesn't seems like living to me. It seems like.... preserving, like....that's the most I can hope for. I'm not old, still very young, in fact, but I'm already so tired. Even getting out of my bed and cleaning myself is like an enormous tasks.
Life seems to be about endurance; not enjoyment, not fulfillment. I don't see the point. Like, why am I here, really? What on earth am I here for?
If someone told me I could go back and undo my birth, I think I might. I really do.
Is that the same thing as wanting to die?
And if so,
What does that mean?
