This is it, I’m experiencing the ubiquitous mid-life crisis. No career to speak of, no relationship to produce on social media and nothing to brag about except a home mortgage to pay.
My chest is burning with anxiety and ennui. The fear that I cannot afford to make costly mistakes is choking me slowly. Recklessness is so tempting right now. Just thinking about packing my bags to live in a foreign country is like a quick espresso shot that dissolves into fatigue and cold shivers of dread.
I don’t know how to choose the things I should focus with my life. Work is just a means to live for me, thanks to the grim reality that sacrificing mental energies and time does not yield rewards. I am envious of 40-year-old otakus who pour so much passion on their 2 dimensional goddesses of fantasy. They are burning for something. I have lost the spark and kindling to nurture a decent hearth.
I am afraid of regret.