I’ve been in this weird headspace lately where life is just… strange. On the surface, everything is fine. I go to work, eat relatively healthy, try to stay on top of errands, keep things running — the usual. But underneath it all, there’s this constant feeling of dull pressure, like I’m being stretched thin by things that don’t really matter. It’s like I’m always busy, but rarely present.
Every day feels packed, but nothing sticks. I go through the motions, check off tasks, scroll a bit, eat, sleep, repeat. I end the day drained, like I ran a marathon in my head — but can’t really remember anything meaningful that happened. It’s not burnout in the dramatic sense, just this low-grade hum of tiredness and disconnection that never really turns off.
Socially, things have gotten quieter too. I barely see my friends anymore. Most of them are still into drinking and going out — stuff that used to feel exciting but now just feels… loud and repetitive. There was no big falling out. Just different rhythms now. Slower ones. And sometimes I sit with that and wonder if it’s just part of growing up, or if something deeper got lost along the way.
And then my brain starts spinning, usually late at night, when everything’s quiet. I start thinking about the future — and it honestly kind of scares me. Not in a dramatic, apocalyptic way, but in that creeping “things-are-moving-too-fast” way. AI is suddenly everywhere. Wars are happening in the background of our everyday lives. Economies feel fragile. Everything seems more unstable than it used to be, like we’re just pretending things are normal while the ground shifts under us.
And weirdly, my mind keeps drifting back to 2006. I don’t even know why exactly — maybe because it felt slower. Simpler. The internet was just fun and weird, not all-consuming. There were fewer screens, fewer existential threats in the news feed. Boredom existed, but it didn’t feel dangerous — it felt open. It felt like space to breathe. Now everything feels compressed, even rest.
I don’t think I’m depressed. I’m not miserable. But I feel… detached. Like I’m watching my life from the outside, waiting for it to feel like mine again. There’s this quiet emptiness running underneath everything, like background static. Not loud enough to break me, just enough to make everything feel slightly out of tune.
Anyone else feel like this? Have you figured out how to shake it — or at least live with it in a way that makes sense?
Give it a go anyways, it’s medicine. It alters your brain chemistry. For some it’s effective, for others not.
Depressed people are pessimistic because they are depressed, so everything you’re saying I’m literally just ignoring and telling you to get the help you need.
I likely have a personality disorder too, otherwise I wouldn’t be required to job hop every year. Which I completely ignore. See how that works? If I don’t want help, or even see a reason for help, then nobody can help me anyways.
Only reason my depression got treated was because I was self aware and wanted help there. The moment I had suicidal thoughts because of an episode, I just went to the doctor the next day and got medication. Been on meds for 2 years now, never better.
Psychologist said I have mild autism, but she’s probably wrong on that. But what do I know, she’s the one with a PhD and decades of work experience. I just don’t see it.
If it were that easy sure, but it doesn’t work that way here (certainly not walk-ins, phone doesn’t work for me). That was my thinking when replying to your top-level comment, that most people (in the US at least) will have more trouble getting there.
Do it anyways.