I hit another breaking point today. This episode isn’t polished or pretty. It’s just me, sitting with the pain, fighting every urge to numb out, and refusing to go back to the person I used to be.

This episode isn’t worth your time. It’s just me burned out, whining, and going in circles.

I caught myself imagining life at 45 — a wife, kids, a house, all the responsibilities that come with it. And strangely, it felt heavy, almost suffocating. Then it hit me: the version of me in that future would give anything to come back here, to this simple, quiet life I have now. The car, the apartment, the freedom, even the loneliness . These are all things I once prayed for. But still, I chase the “next thing” and forget I’ve already made it this far.

I catch myself wishing for a different life, a different past, a different version of me. It’s so easy to focus on the next mountain to climb and forget to notice where I’m standing. I don’t have it all figured out. I feel out of place, confused, even scared sometimes. But maybe this wandering is part of the path, and maybe learning to be grateful for the small things now is how I’ll build the life I want later.

I keep replaying mistakes, bad choices, and the feeling of climbing so high only to crash back down. It hurts, it feels unfair, and it makes me wonder if I’ll ever find my way out. But maybe these lows are teaching me something I can’t see yet, maybe they’re the training ground for who I’m meant to become. For now, I’m just here, tired and clueless, trying to make sense of it all.

Some days it feels like life just keeps stacking problems on top of you. The urge to escape, to reach for a drink, or fall back into old habits can feel overwhelming. This is me, sitting alone in my apartment, fighting that urge and talking myself through it. I don’t have it figured out. I’m tired, frustrated, and still trying, but I’m also learning to notice what’s still good: the food on my plate, the air in my lungs, the fact that I’m still alive. This is about choosing, even on the hardest nights, to get back up and keep trying.

Sometimes it feels empty, and I catch myself chasing the next thing, hoping it’ll fix it. But maybe the meaning is already in the small stuff, the quiet moments, the simple routines, the people we care about. I’m still learning, but maybe that’s the point.

I spent the day back on my old college campus and realized how many moments I let slip by. Looking back, I wish I had lived more, taken more chances, and stepped out of my comfort zone. But maybe that’s the lesson: we only get one shot at the present, and the days we’re in right now will one day be the “good old days.”

A tired evening, a disappointing salad, and a YouTube video changed how I looked at life. In this episode, I reflect on how easily we take our existence for granted and how incredible it is that we’re even here at all. From thousands of ancestors surviving impossible odds to the comfort we live in today, this is a reminder that, even when life feels heavy, you’re a miracle — and there’s still so much to appreciate.

The past feels heavy, like a bag I keep carrying even though it only makes me tired. This episode is about trying to accept what’s gone, letting go of regrets, and reminding ourselves that as long as we’re still here, we can keep moving forward.