Coming out of depression felt like waking up from a long sleep.
You feel groggy, and have vague recollections of the last dreams you had and trying to differentiate which memories are real and which memories are echoes from the dreams.
I knew I would have a crisis of identity down the line after getting 'cured' of depression. I knew I would reach a point of ultimate dissatisfaction about where my life is. I knew the restlessness would come back. I knew it would hit me hard.
Have you ever reached a point where you look back at your life and know you aren't happy with it? Sure it would be easy to argue about it not being within your control. I can tell tell myself over and over that there was nothing I could do to change my life while I was depressed. That I didn't have the capacity for making expensive or risky decisions like I am able to now, and was able to before. It is so easy to just resign to those facts and just go with it... But I know better.
The thing that scares me the most currently is, ironically enough, the fact that I'm not scared at all. It's like my subconscious has already made a decision I'm not yet aware of. I am worried that I am about to do something stupid. But something stupid and something risky are the only options I have left. When your are backed into a corner you can either give up...or turn and face whatever is chasing you.
I have dreams and goals. I want to have kids someday. Probably sooner. I want to do something I love, I want more control, and I want to contribute to humanity and the world more actively and directly. Truth be told, I don't see how I can do that in my current state. I don't want to sit in one chair long enough for it to adjust to the shape of my body.
Have you ever felt like your life is in a rut? Have you ever woken up in a strange bed you couldn't recognize? Everyone insists it's your bed, that you've lain in it for over 4 years, but the mattress is too lumpy, the sheets too mouldy, and the bed too creaky?
You get out of the bed and look around. The walls are the wrong colour...not even close to the ideal colour you'd have wanted. The floors are tiled, but the tiles don't match and where the carpet lies, it's too thin. You go out and discover all you have is the bedroom.
When you seek answers about why you live there, everyone tells you you just have for as long as you can remember. Their memories only go as far back as you slept. So for them it's normal. You remember going to sleep in a bigger bed. You remember it being more comfortable. You remember more rooms.
Nobody seems to understand why you complain about your bed. After all they are comfortable in theirs, or rather they have accepted those are the beds they shall have for ever and ever.
But when you think about eternity... It's not worth wasting eternity in a bed you hate.
I'd rather sleep in the cold seeking out a better one than sleep in some stupid bed I can barely remember slipping into the first time.
