I’ve been thinking about my life lately. How I approach things. How I avoid things. How I tell myself I want to do things but then never do. I have a list of things a mile long that I very much want to start doing again but somehow, when my free time comes around, I’m always just too tired or too unmotivated to take up any of those activities. I just sit in my chair and watch TV or a movie or play video games. And don’t get me wrong, I enjoy doing those things, but I also enjoy doing the things I want to do more of. But those other things take effort. Anyway, I’m a fairly introspective guy. I know myself pretty darn well. I know the things I will and won’t do. And I know from 47 years of life on this planet that this is the status quo. I have things I want to do but I choose not to do them. And the other day, a thought hit me out of the blue. I wonder if I’m depressed. Not ragingly so. Not suicidal. Not so deep in my misery that the world is a dark uncaring void that I only want to escape from. Rather, that insidious quiet sadness that just sits behind your ears, never really saying anything but weighing your heart down just a bit. Making you think you’re not quite good enough. Making you think that maybe your friends are only there because you can give them something they need, not because they’re truly your friends. And this quiet sadness just seems to align with everything that’s happened in your life up to now, making you realize that things will never change, this is as good as it gets so you might as well just relax and let the world pass you by. Do you know what I mean? It’s funny because many times in my life, I have been so beaten down by life and it’s reality that feeling the way I do every day now would seem like a gift. But I’m starting to think that maybe, just maybe, there could be more. Maybe I just need to find a way to lift myself just a bit higher. Recognize that the quiet sadness I feel isn’t my fault and doesn’t belong in my life. But that also takes effort. And I’m not good at that.