I turn 30 in a month. I feel really listless and am having a difficult time rationalizing why I’m still here. At this point, I can easily conclude that whatever is going on in my brain is mental illness and it’s not going to go away. I’ve been oscillating in and out of waves of debilitating depression for two decades now. Nothing seems to help; everything is a ban aid. When I was a teenager, I was diagnosed as bipolar - a diagnosis I rejected - but I’m starting to reconsider that label, as it might explain why I don’t find SSRIs or talk therapy particularly useful. I am grateful for nature, and for biking, and for beaches, and for summer. I love my mom, who is a senior citizen, and as long as she is on this planet I will be as well. I feel like all my other relationships are precarious. I have recently decided to cut off all face to face contact with my ex, which erases the closest relationship I have. I want to restructure my life. I don’t care about punk or being queer or making a statement. I want family. I want intentionality. I want to live cooperatively. I want friends who I trust are my friends. I want pets. I want to get really fucking buff. I don’t want to rely on other people.










