Life isn't bad. I can say that over and over, and I know that's true.

How privileged am I that I can fuss with this Linux computer while I'm waiting for the next assignment? How privileged am I to have a house, a car, medical care, people who care about me, a kitchen full of food, furniture of my own?

The most difficult thing about anxiety and depression is that there isn't an "OK" where everything is just completely fine. I'm crying, or I'm afraid, or I'm not enough, or I'm wrong.

Life IS OK. But it doesn't feel right, and nothing will make it feel right. I just keep living and not knowing how to function with it.

I made it this far. I'm in an equilibrium. Things could be like this forever and I won't be in a difficult spot. I'll have money and food and agency and anything I need. I don't have to be sad or upset anymore. I can want MORE, but I don't need to worry.

I may never shake this feeling that I'm always doing something wrong.