Pointlessness

Sometimes I really wonder if there is a point to Life (and I DON'T mean that in a religious sense). In the past, I've made all sorts of goals and dreams but at this point in life, I feel as if I'm only doing 2 of them...and not very happily. I am not satisfied with Life. I am not satisfied with my life. I have a hard time getting interested in things. I'm not creative, and don't really care to be. I have a hard time taking photographs like I used to. Painting used to be my favorite thing and now I can't bring myself to do it. A stack of expensive watercolor paper is now collecting dust under our futon.

I don't care for people as much as I used to. I have no sympathy or empathy for them. I get too frustrated and too angry too easily. When I look outside, I see pollution, dirty buildings, wastefulness, discontentment, stress, and pointlessness.

I hate most doctors I've been to. I hate going to the doctor. I think I'd rather suffer in agony than go through the tests and shit they put usually put me through. I wish my life wasn't full of health problems, work, boredom, and exhaustion.

My days feel so monotonous. I work, I go grocery shopping, I come home and clean, and then I sit around watching YouTube videos. I don't do any of the things I used to do for fun. I'm not even looking forward to me and Mark's vacation anymore. What's the point? It will just make it even more difficult to come back. Sometimes I actually enjoy work because it relieves me from other things and people. Now, that's simply wrong.

I hate my life but there seems to be nothing I can do to change it. And sometimes I don't care enough to change it. I just wallow in self-pity and frustration...and deal with it! Sometimes that's easier than confronting it.

There's got to be more. Why don't I feel as energetic, optimistic, creative, or bubbly as I used to? I feel like those Harry Potter ghosts have gotten a hold of me and sucked out my soul. I'm so sad.