Crossroads (or depression, again)

I don't get this. I really don't get it. The feeling that everything you do is pretty pointless — be it academics or be it Kule. It's not like I deliberately think about it; it just comes on its own accord. This empty feeling, this alienation, this strange disturbance that I hope will go away really, really soon.

Lately, I've been thinking of doing something more than I already am (and I know it's near suicide, what I'm considering). That's why right now I'm thinking about joining another org outside of Kule (UP SILIP to be precise).

The thing is, I'm really confused about what I truly want to do.

My impending graduation, one year from now (that is if I finish on time), seems like a dead-end; a deadline to make decisions. Decisions which I have put off for as long as I could. I have options aplenty, but in the end I know that somehow I have already chosen, I just still haven't gotten around to accepting which options seem most viable to me.

Existential? Maybe; most of the time I just chalk it off as chronic depression that eventually goes away. Manic-depressive? Possibly. World-weary? Isn't that too early at this point in my life? I mean, I'm barely 18, it's not like I'm supposed to experience some midlife crisis now. I'm supposed to be at the height of my youth. I'm not supposed to be like this.

But then, and the more important question is, why? Everything's going well in my life. It's not like I'm failing my classes or anything. It's not like I'm having problems again with my working relations with the people I work with.

Problem is, it's beginning to come more frequently lately that I'm afraid it might be something more serious.

Moreover, I have no freaking idea how to get around this.

I need a diversion badly. I know as much. I feel removed (detached, I think, is the more apt word) from the height of things, like when other people are around me, I just simply fade quietly into the background, choosing not to mingle, choosing to be alone, wrapped up in my thoughts (or lack thereof).

Maybe I need to write more, since I have long since recognized that writing is my form of therapy. Like now.

Or maybe I just need to stop for a moment, and breathe.