I stepped out to the verandah and looked over our valley. I had a strange feeling of familiarity. I've lived in this house - in this bedroom - over 20 years now. I have experienced ll my successes and failures here.
I was watching some classic Simpsons earlier. Something I've not done in a long time, although I've always considered it something I love. It's probably one of the things that encapsulates my childhood best. The same jokes I found hilarious as an 8 year old don't fail to entertain me even now.
It evoked these feelings I've not really dwelled on for a while. Is my life real? my entire adulthood, so far has gone by in a flash. It's missing something. As a child I only really focused on whatever entertained me or provided my next dopamine hit. I hadn't made the connection between hard work and reward. I'd not yet discovered loneliness, depression, drudgery and responsibility. I genuinely enjoyed things. I had fun.
Watching The Simpsons. Going to the beach. Having friends over and having waterfights or playing murder in the dark (we interpreted the name literally). That older friend who installed Pokemon ROMs on the family computer. The genuine sense of adventure and exploration I had playing those games for the first time. Collecting Yugioh cards - playing with friends before you could afford to buy the perfect deck online. sleepover birthdays and super smash bros melee. Doing silly stuff with mates and just not worrying much. Learning about history from AoE and documentaries. Before MMOs. When your family was still together.

I started getting full-on depression when I was 12-13, and it's defined much of my life since then. I am just now taking in how little joy I've had since then. I don't enjoy things... I don't have fun.
Is this just part of growing up? Has being an avoidant personality disorder loner who spends too much time on 4chan turned me bitter and jaded. Or is this just how life is? Did life use to have soul, or did that disappear after 9/11