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# I Give Up
- URL: https://fessup.mymidnight.blog/i-give-up/
- Published: 2026-06-16T22:37:58.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-07T16:11:05.000Z
- Description: No lessons. No silver linings. Just this.
- Author: Jerry Fess
- Tags: existential, I give up, existential dread, depression, existing, mental health, Newsletter, #Migrated-1791389245739, #Import 2026-10-07 11:10

I haven’t written anything for weeks.

Not because I’ve been busy. Not because I haven’t had ideas.

Because I haven’t felt anything.

![](https://cdn.mymidnight.blog/faafda66202d234463057972460c04f5/2026/10/ff837225-dc0a-4f74-9846-2dc23ec7a167_1536x1024.png)

No excitement.

No anticipation.

No drive.

No spark that makes me want to sit down and tell a story or share a thought.

I just feel tired.

Not the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep fixes.

The kind that settles into your bones after years of carrying things.

Doctors.

Appointments.

Tests.

Procedures.

Prescriptions.

Insurance.

Bills.

Car problems.

Phone calls.

Waiting rooms.

Another thing to fix.

Another thing to pay.

Another thing to worry about.

Every time one problem gets solved, two more seem to take its place.

And after a while, life starts feeling less like living and more like managing.

Managing pain.

Managing money.

Managing expectations.

Managing disappointment.

Managing another Tuesday.

I look around and I don’t see much differently in other people.

I see tired people.

People carrying grief.

People carrying loneliness.

People carrying dreams that never quite happened.

People trying to convince themselves that next year will be better than this year.

I see it in strangers.

I see it in my family.

I see it in myself.

People talk about finding purpose.

Finding joy.

Finding meaning.

Finding your tribe.

Finding your person.

But some days I wonder if that’s just another thing we’re all supposed to be searching for.

Because at 54 years old, I still find myself asking questions I thought I would have answered by now.

Why do I still feel so alone?

Why do I miss people who aren’t here anymore?

Why do I miss friendships that faded away?

Why do I miss feeling connected to something bigger than myself?

Why am I not someone’s priority?

Not a responsibility.

Not an obligation.

Not a contact in their phone.

A priority.

Someone they think about first.

Someone they’re excited to hear from.

Someone whose absence would actually leave a hole.

I don’t need a grand purpose.

I don’t need enlightenment.

I don’t need a glowing aura, a spiritual awakening, or Jedi ghosts appearing to tell me everything happens for a reason.

I just wanted to feel alive.

Or maybe I wanted to feel whatever everyone else seemed to be feeling.

The thing I was supposed to feel by now.

Or then.

Or whenever.

Instead, I sit here missing friends. My online gamer friends. I hope they see this. I love them.

Missing connection.

Missing the version of myself that believed things would somehow come together.

And the older I get, the harder it becomes to tell the difference between disappointment and acceptance.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t written.

Because I don’t have an inspiring lesson.

I don’t have a hopeful ending.

I don’t have a list of ways to turn things around.

All I have is this feeling.

This exhaustion.

This ache.

This sense that I’ve spent so many years pushing forward that I don’t even remember what I was pushing toward.

And today, for the first time in a long while, I don’t have anything wise to say about it.

I just give up.

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