I personally don’t have many hobbies, or activities that I enjoy doing on a regular basis. I think because I was so focused on staying alive during my formative years, I never really learned what I enjoyed. Sure I enjoy writing, I enjoy watching anime, and I enjoy playing video games, but I think it would be a decent stretch to call them hobbies. And yes, I know, I’m your typical “neckbearded nerd” but I not really all that ashamed of being one anymore. Granted, I am by no means an “Incel”, I don’t DM random women (after my teenage years anyways) and I’ve never sent an unsolicited picture of my nether regions, nor any picture of them for that matter. I enjoy what I enjoy, because it kept me distracted from my depression long enough to make it to the next day. I have since found actual enjoyment through these things, and they are no longer simply coping mechanisms, so I am not really all that caught up in what it “looks like” from an outside view.

Since my treatment however, I have been searching for something that I enjoy that I can actually call a hobby. Something like kayaking, or woodworking, or even car customs. Something that is tangeable. I don’t know if I’m making any sense at all, but it just feels like the things I enjoy are still empty somehow. I think that it has to do with passion. I’ve never really had a passion for anything i my life except dying, which as it turns out is not such a great hobby. What even is passion? Is it a sensation? Is it an emotion? Is it more of like a feeling? Almost anything I’ve done in my life was for any of three reasons, survival, death, or money. It’s kinda funny how many things I do overlap within those three reasons.

Recently though, I’ve found something I enjoy very much, that I used to hate. I love hearing impassioned people talking about their hobbies. The light in their eyes, that smile of pure joy. It is like nothing else there is. Part of me wants that feeling for myself, but the other, larger part is just so enthralled by someone talking about something they love doing. My coworker is a small streamer on a now defunct gaming platform and is transitioning to the other, larger, more well-known platform (I’m sure you all know which one I’m talking about). But listening to him talk about his streaming, his plans, his goals, his dreams, I just get instantly wrapped up in a warm fuzzy feeling.

I think another part of it all is that I don’t like having goals or dreams, because to me, they ultimately end in failure, or what I consider to be failure. Having a goal, just means when I don’t meet it, I’ll feel sadness, anger and regret. I guess I never really ever imagine myself even meeting my goals. It’s like, why even try if I’m never gonna succeed sorta deal. I know that this is pretty much all based around my depression and horrible self esteem from my youth, but these kinds of things are very difficult to change after they are set in your head. Though they are not impossible to change, and given where I am now, I feel I’m making progress on that front. Even so, what do goals have to do with hobbies? Hell if I know. It’s kind of new to me to think that I can do something I enjoy, and I don’t have to be the best at it, or even good for that matter. It’s all a very bizarre concept for me. Doing something I enjoy, not to keep my will to live strong, but just for the enjoyment of it. It seems that I am just looking for something to pass the time, but not anything, something constructive. Something that either give me, or uses a skill. Something that I can use to create something that improves my life, while at the same time providing entertainment and camaraderie. Something that gives me a place to belong in this world. I know that might be a lot to ask of any single thing, but I can’t help but desire it. Even long after my depression has faded, I still have many of the same desires, and fears that were spawned because of it. But what do I know of joy? I’ve only ever known darkness, so suddenly being in a world full of light is quite bewildering to me. I almost feel like I wouldn’t know what to do with pure unadulterated joy. It would probably even feel weird, or wrong. But that’s okay, because life is a journey, and I’m just along for the ride.