I have no idea how to word this, as every similar post that I've seen has had an obvious cause, in some way shape or form. I, on the other hand, feel pretty shitty even writing this up know that others have actual problems that I am taking that visibility from.

When I wake up, I get to go to work a job that mentally stimulates me, teaches me new things (both in terms of a legacy system and in terms of new technology), and lets me work from home 3/5 days a week. On top of that, I have a very solid housing situation where I don't need to worry about rent being raised. I have a (reliable) car that only needs routine maintanence, and has very good MPG. I have a dog that I love, and would easily die for without a second thought. I have family living nearby, that, while we don't agree religiously or politically most times, can all get along and enjoy holidays or get togethers.

And yet, feel like I lied about my life just now.

When I wake up, the first thought isn't that my dog is waking me up to go out, it is the feeling of the weight that merely existing seems to put on me. As I just stated earlier, my job is not the cause of stress, neither is housing, nor food, nor family. I have no reason to feel the way that I do.

I've recently (in the last 6 months) started journaling, and the main theme that I have found is that I am constantly thankful for having everything that I do. And yet, tomorrow, when I open my eyes, either due to the alarm, or due to my dog waking me up to go outside, I will have a weight laying over my chest that I can only attribute to the fact that I still exist.

I try to ignore the news (while staying informed enough to vote properly on candidates), I don't use social media except for Tildes and to share the once a week or two photo on Instagram, and I am both active physically, and creatively. None of this seems to remove the weight. I feel like I am either wasting my existence when I am consuming media, wasting my time attempting to create when others have voices or messages with stronger meaning, or wasting other's time when I hang around them.

I have no right to complain about my life. Hell, two years ago I would have killed for what I have now. And, yet, I feel like I am wasting what I have been given. I am legitimately happiest sitting out in my backyard with my dog, either sipping a beer or just watching the stars. The issue is, that when I do, a weight slowly lays itself over me, one that I do not know the cause of, or reason for. A weight that I cannot shake, and can only attribute to simply existing.

I would like so very much, even temporarily, to remove it.