April 26, 2013
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I never had back problems until I turned 27-28. Whenever I study for more than an hour at a time, my back starts to hurt.
I got depressed after about 5 hours of math homework today. I was thinking about the years I spent in haziness and confusion about the direction of my life. Sometimes when I’m tutoring my kids, I want to tell them to avoid my path, but I think my scenario had precipitated from relatively unusual circumstances – my inability to form meaningful and lasting romantic relationships at the cusp of my adulthood in conjunction with the sudden deaths of many relatives made me exceedingly cynical of life and its standard pathways. At some point, I don’t think I wanted to do anything with my life except experiment with various substances until I died. Everything that happened exacerbated the depression I had already been fighting since middle school or high school. Most things that happened to me shouldn’t affect an emotionally healthy person the way they affected me. But that statement is already a passive aggressive way of saying ‘the world did this to me, boo hoo woo hoo.’ Pointless to even think about any of this because really, it doesn’t make me any happier or validate or invalidate any of the feelings I have.
In reality, feelings are there whether they are ‘correct’ or ‘incorrect,’ ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ but the more important thing is whether they make me a ‘functional’ or ‘dysfunctional’ person.