Why is it that my mind can spend such an incredible amount of time seeking answers to questions it is unable to formulate? Why is it that despite the incredible run of good fortune over the last 18 months, I am generally unhappy and generally alternating between light depression and extreme rage? It makes no sense. It serves no greater good.
I want to be happy. I want to be able to brush off the little nuisances that crop up in everyday life. These are not impossible objectives, and yet they are. Is this just a lack of sleep? Is it from a lack of personal time? Is it something else? So many questions. So few answers.