I stand up, I look out my window at the big city. I think ‘how is any of this real, and why do I have to age and eventually die?’

I wake up in the morning in my weird little flat. I wonder to myself, ‘so this is it, huh? I just do this until my body fails?’

I cook myself a meal. I find out how a museum works behind the scenes. I get a tour of an office. I see my friends go out. I book a movie ticket. I work out. I watch a comedian. I listen to a podcast. All of these things just make me ponder what the point of it all is. Am I doing it wrong? Am I doing it pretty well? Why should I accumulate all this knowledge if I’m just going to die? What’s the point in watching my stupid obscure movies that I can’t even talk to people about? Am I missing out on the human experience?

Realistically I’m a happy ape. All my needs are satisfied. But I am a sad human.

I think it’s all linked to graduating. The pressures on to do well, the workload is racking up, and then once that’s all done I just get thrown into the real world. That’s it. Then it truly is just doing the same thing over and over. Then it really is a question of survival. Would it be better to just be a dumb neolithic huntsman who is grateful for his bed of fur in his cave? What the fuck did those guys even think of when they took psychedelics? Well, spirits, I know, but wow, the things in their head must’ve been so original. If I do them, most of my thoughts are just about the garbage I’ve watched, and my modern worries that are worrisome but relatively tame.

Is this just a normal thing to go through, and then you get on with it and accept that this is just how things are?

Maybe life is simply starting to get to me, and time will tell if I crack under pressure.

  • Feinsteins_Ghost [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    Im 44. It is just work, eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep for me. I make jokes, i laugh at jokes. I interact with other humans regularly, but im not happy. Im not suicidal, but im not happy either.

    I am a plumber by trade. Ive been doing this a long time now. I hold a couple professional licenses in the state i reside in. This is what i will do until im buried. I have moments where i enjoy what i do, but those moments are more and more fleeting. Its mostly just frustration though. Frustration because something went wrong, or parts didnt arrive when they were supposed to, or because i have to squeeze just one more service call in on a Friday at 445pm. Frustration because i got a weekend emergency call and its going to end up tanking my whole Saturday or Sunday and then Monday is back on deck. I make ok money but it isnt enough to vacation, or do anything to break up the monotony. It isnt enough to retire on. I will work until the day im six feet under. It isnt professional burnout. It isnt a midlife crisis because im not trying to relive my youth, or fuck 20 year olds, or drive a red convertible or anything like that. Its life burnout.

    Ive struggled with the thought of ‘This is it, Feinsteins_Ghost. This is your life. This is how its going to be forever.’ Also always struggled with why am i doing this? Why am i in YET ANOTHER continuing ed class? Why am i reading fucking plumbing code books? Why bother? I might not even wake up tomorrow, and if theres an afterlife, im going to look back and see that i wasted my last night on Earth looking thru manufacturer literature verifying the correct lockup pressure on a goddamned propane regulator.

    The struggle is fucking real, and it slaps me in the face daily. Whats the point is a very valid question to ask.

  • BlueMagaChud [any]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    the worst is I know that thousands of people in the global south died so this could happen and I don’t want it, I want less, I can afford less, I don’t need this much and they need more, but I can’t do much myself to truly rectify the situation

        • MaoTheLawn [any, any]@hexbear.netOP
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          9 months ago

          hahahahahaha fuck me

          well if it means anything you don’t come off as a 40 year old at all

          not kidding if you ever wrote up your thoughts about it all and how you’ve gotten this far I’d love to read them

          no pressure of course I know that’s also potentially just an extra chore

  • ikiru@lemmy.ml
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    1 year ago

    I studied philosophy most of my life, graduated a relatively long time ago, have been involved in the Left for many years, am a reasonable but very religious person, and these thoughts still not only occur to me regularly but also still shake me to my core.

    You may very well have these thoughts for the rest of your life.

    But it’s better to have them than to not. Just be forgiving to yourself.

  • booty [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    Nope, I don’t think about it. Thinking about it sucks and is unproductive and I’ve already determined that it’s unanswerable.

    … okay, I think about it a little.

    • the_itsb [she/her, comrade/them]@hexbear.net
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      1 year ago

      Nope, I don’t think about it. Thinking about it sucks and is unproductive and I’ve already determined that it’s unanswerable. full of answers I don’t like.

      This is why I stuff it to the side: I do not like what it reveals!

  • thisismyrealname [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    talking to my parents and grandparents has made me realize how profoundly boring modern life is. my granddad can talk for hours about his life and the things he did when he was my age and all i’ll have for my kids is “uhh i posted on a communist forum and looked at tiktoks.”

    the best thing you can do is get offline and talk to people

    • MaoTheLawn [any, any]@hexbear.netOP
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      1 year ago

      Same, I guess, but the way they lived just doesn’t exist in the same way anymore. You could go to another country, pick up a job, and realistically imagining owning a home. On their holidays there’s all of these amazing cultural experiences and an authentic world much more untouched by the filthy grip of neoliberalism.

      Nowadays I go out and try to experience the world. I don’t have the money to go on holiday, so I’m restricted to my city. The fun stuff my parents and grandparents speak of - going out, popping songs on the jukebox, having a real dance, all of your friends are there - well, I’ve tried it many times. Mostly it’s expensive and unsatisfying. People barely even dance anymore. A drink at a club will set you back half your nights budget. All the songs are algorithm created shite (and I’m not some modern music hater, I love the stuff, but ‘pop’ is in an absolutely dire state - thanks capitalism) and whatever songs tiktok has made popular. You can get a big night out of friends, but these clubs and pubs don’t feel like hubs of community, just modes of extraction. Sometimes you find a niche little bar that’s fun to go to, and then someone posts it online and the entry price goes up and it becomes full of hipster nauses.

      So I’d rather just stay at home, work out to keep my body healthy, cook a nice meal and enjoy my creature comforts.

      • thisismyrealname [he/him]@hexbear.net
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        1 year ago

        both my grandparents were teachers who moved around a lot for work. they did a lot of odd jobs over the years too; forestry work, commercial fishing in Alaska, etc.

  • GrouchyGrouse [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    It’s the soul sucking nature of capitalism turning us into homo economicus that accelerates these feelings. Existential dread has always been around, I’d wager, but it seems to be very intense in these times. Working in agriculture helped my mental health immensely. At least I am outdoors, I observe the seasons, I watch my little green buddies grow with satisfaction. It has its ups and downs and I still have depression but it’s better now.

    9 years of retail was killing me. Quite literally. I was drinking half a bottle of cheap whiskey nightly just to numb the pain. Smoking like a chimney. Eating fast food to soak up the alcohol then passing out in bed for another night of drunken dreamless sleep so I could do it again the next day. Don’t uh… don’t do that.

  • Saoirse [she/her, comrade/them]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    The point of life is itself, it is to be and to experience the full breadth of possibility contained therein. Yet you are confined, only free to experience what limited possibilities you are structurally coerced into pursuing. And those are not random, they are those pursuits which enrich a remote and disinterested ruling class.

    I have had this feeling you describe, and continue to have it. The best thing you can do for yourself, I believe, is to begin to deeply understand that what you feel you must do is every moment being manipulated to make you useful, even to your own detriment.

    Every moment you manage to resist this death drive, this ghostly dog at your ankles, every moment you manage to steal rest, comfort, ease, each moment you manage to do something for yourself even if you are expected to be performing labor, or performing the appearance of labor, you get back some little sliver of yourself. Steal every second you can, every day.

  • DayOfDoom [any, any]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    That’s the nausea of realizing the malignant uselessness of the universe and more so specifically feeling and living inside the universe.