yardstick for failure

The anhedonia lasts in various intensities. There is no joy in any work nor rest. It is extremely demanding and exhausting, mentally and then also physically, when the body keeps following the mind, to conciously not to choose the familiar and automatic depressive neural pathway.

I believe I have burnt the reward system in my brain and it doesn't work as it should. And I know for certain it's the short-form content, it's the ragebaiting, it's the news of war, politics, gender based violence, capitalism, climate colapse and constant danger, it's the people around me self-inflicting dopamine death on themselves as well as I have.

Not only I am sad and overall blunt, I am also envious and angry of my peers' status, money they inherited, their relationships, their health. My blood boils when someone healthy with a complete family, living in a house their parents bought for them and working a job they studied for and that they genuinely enjoy, complain about not having enough money at the end of the month. Did you eat the banknotes by accident? Did you clean your arsehole with them and flushed them down the toilet?

I know I have to, despite all this, find joy or at least something resembling it in my everyday life, in my work, whatever that will ever be, in the relationships I have. I know all this irritability and disgust is ungrateful. I know there are people who have 100x worse life than I have. Things have to start making sense to me again and I keep thinking what was different 10 years, 7 years ago - maybe the hope and the "hard work still pays off" thinking that made sense before the pandemic. The goals used to be obtainable, now it's gone and the game changes every year. When I was ten years old all I thought was art and musinc and now I'm thirty six and all I ever think about is money.

Ten years ago I was still able to fall in love and have some dreams that were obtainable, and was so curious and eager to learn, and now my brain shuts the thoughts before they even form because they are not gonna happen so why bother. You will never make enough money to live doing what you like so why bother. You will never find a solid partner so why bother. You will not experience joy while doing what you like so why bother.

I am serving a life sentence of my own making in my own head.

And the worst thing is - I did it all to myself.