I Hate My Life

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 am.

Stumbling out of bed, you brew a strong cup of coffee to get through the day. Sitting in your car, you pause before starting the engine. “I can’t keep doing this”, you think to yourself.

Driving to work, you arrive at your soul-sucking job with only minutes to spare. As you walk through the office doors an all too familiar feeling creeps in.

You hate it here. You hate the menial tasks that fill your waking hours. You hate the manager who seems to revel in breathing down your neck.

Sinking into your chair, you stare numbly at your computer, a single thought commandeering your conscious mind.

“I hate myself and I hate my life”

While the hours crawl by, you are left with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and self-loathing. You upload files, respond to emails, and click through a sea of meaningless tasks. “What’s the point?” you often think to yourself.

As the clock strikes 4:59pm, you jump out of your chair, sprinting out of the office. “I’m finally free,” you think, but the nature of your freedom is elusive. Free to do what? Free from what?

Speeding home, cutting people off in YOUR way in a rush to hang out with the one friend who has never left you. The friend who has been there for you through thick and thin, always available to numb you from the realities of the monotonous grind.

Your drink or shall I say, drug of choice.

You delve into an evening of sedation in a desperate attempt to feel something…anything other than how you actually feel.

Dropping onto your couch, you turn on the television and begin your nightly ritual of escapism through mindless entertainment. Scrolling through an endless sea of movies, television, video games, porn and social media feeds.

Midnight comes too soon. As you drift off into sleep, you stare at the blank ceiling above you and wonder, “Is this it?”

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