I once told a counselor I was seeing that I considered my life deeply boring (and that I considered that feeling a root cause of my depression) and they were genuinely shocked. No one had ever told them that before, no one in their 14 or whatever years of studying psychotherapy had ever expressed such a deep discontent with not the fact that their life was going poorly--I am capable of being in college and feeling well enough to write for this site, after all--but that it was going just well enough. And, honestly, I found that more shocking than my own admission.

By “just well enough,” I mean that in the most middle class American capitalist way possible. I have sustenance, shelter, a job I hate, a family, and some friends. As far as Maslow’s hierarchy of needs goes, I’ve achieved the first three levels, physiological, safety and love/belonging, to some degree, which unfortunately is admirable based on the amount of poverty still rampant in the world, but shouldn’t be and isn’t enough to lead what may be called a full life. I seem to be missing the top two needs, self-esteem and self-actualization. A capitalist-centric world has lead me to believe that those two things should come from a career and by extension success in the capitalist marketplace, but I look at the idealized picture of the American dream, the white picket fence and 9-to-5, and think that that’s nothing worth dreaming about. That, too, despite its perceived esteem in being a valuable member of a capitalist society, and perceived self-actualization in the peace of the scenario--a spouse and two-point-five kids all well-educated and pretty--is deeply boring to me. Some people don’t mind boring, as it can be called peace, but I get depressed just thinking about it. America is founded on the dream of enabling feelings of ennui and coveting more, a national laziness and uninterestedness that is literally killing me.

To prevent myself from dying of boredom at 30, I’ve ventured a guess at what would inspire me enough to allow myself to survive my depression, considering the foundation of this country has turned against me and thus have the wishes of my parents and most of my peers. And many of the guesses are disgusting and horrible wishes that make no sense, and that I can’t comfortably share here. There are almost no “normal” dreams that end with me happy including actually using my creative writing degree and becoming a successful writer/artist after getting a doctorate. Because when I stepped up to receive my high school diploma I started crying, and not because I was proud or happy but because I could feel the end coming without anything worthwhile having happened. I was in a way mourning the wasted time. The same thing will happen when I receive my bachelor’s, my doctorate, hey, even my marriage certificate if I live that long. Maybe it's the lack of self-esteem that is preventing me from attaining self-esteem; when you consider yourself boring, it's difficult to find anything around you very interesting.