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A year ago, I wanted to die.

...Well, no. Let me rephrase that. Because wanting is almost normal for me.
A year ago, I made a sincere effort to cease existing.

There were a lot of things happening. I could list them all out for you, and you'd feel bad and wish you'd known, but none of those things are the point.

Even my lifelong depression isn't the point, really.

I'm getting help, now. Both through traditional medication and counseling. I have the support to never ever end up in that place again.

The root of it, though.
Down at the base, deeper than all of the symptoms and stress, there is another cause. That's the one I want to address here. Shedding light on it takes away some of the power it has. Digging in allows me to figure out how to heal.

I don't know what to do with my life.

I know all of the should do. I know all of the expectations. I know plenty of what other people want.
I don't yet know exactly what I want.

I've been told I'm ahead of the curve because I know who I am. I know what I like, and I know my limits. Maybe that's so. And yet... All of that knowing still leaves me standing in the middle of my life, needing to do something, but unsure. It's a bit like I have the answer to the ultimate question, but no clue what the question might be.

To be ready to live this life, I have to figure out what it's for.
No one can know that but me.

What is your life for?