Another melancholy moment has hit me. I realize that I am utterly inadequate in life. And now you say how does that make sense when the only requirement of life is to be alive? I don’t know, but I feel like I’m just taking up air another person could be breathing.

What do you want to do with your life? I want to sit and contemplate, but not for too long as depression will consume me. You tell me what I should do and I’ll do it. I’m good at a lot of things, but not great at anything. I gave up most of my friends. There are only two who will stay with me. I can’t keep a conversation going because I have nothing interesting to say. If you just said something you’ll have to repeat it because my attention span is worse than that of a kid with ADD and these ears will switch focus to the slightest background noise. I’m only good for helping out with rent or with filling out forms or writing the occasional large check. Because that’s what I am - a source of income, and no more.