I fear that I’m going nowhere. How can I succeed when I can’t even get up in the morning? How can I forge ahead when I feel like I’m drowning? Sometimes I’m going into a depressive spiral or a period of hypomania. Sometimes I’m going to class half an hour late with a well-rehearsed excuse because the real reason is too raw to speak aloud. Sometimes I’m going up and up to success, or at least I like to think that. Sometimes I’m going into a panic attack wondering if anything is worth it. 

        Right now, I’m following the corridor in my mind-house looking for the room that leads to outer space. When I find it, I enter through a grey door that swings shut behind me and disappears. I become weightless. I drift, moving through the expanse by the power of will. In this room I have witnessed the birth of stars. I have circled distant solar systems, I have touched fragments of other worlds in the tails of comets. I have watched supernovas without flinching.

        In this room, it doesn’t matter where I’m going--there is always somewhere to be along the way, something to experience for the first time. When I return to the tangible, when I reach out and the knob materializes in my hand, I tend to lose this sense of meaning. I trudge through life, fatigued by the weight of reality. I’m going to school. I’m going to find a job. I’m going to buy a house. I’m going to wither. The truth is, though, that we all are. In the meantime, I’m going to pick worms off the sidewalk after the rain and throw them back into the grass so they don’t fry. I’m going to tell my friends they look nice. I’m going to laugh. I’m going to start reading again. I’m going to teach a child how to play piano, after I teach myself. I’m going to sing in the car. I’m going to cry at superhero movies. I’m going to do what I love, whatever that may be, and I’m going to find purpose in the search for purpose.

        Maybe I’m going to be a lawyer. Maybe I’m going to get pulled over for speeding tomorrow. Maybe I’m going to be an artist, living in a tiny, top-floor apartment and eating instant ramen for dinner every day. Maybe I’m going to be late to my dentist appointment. Maybe I’m going to forget to do my laundry and have to wear dirty clothes to class. Maybe I’m going to travel the world and learn Hungarian and Mandarin and German and all the other languages I’d like to learn. I don’t know where I’m going. What I do know is that I’m going. Even on the days where I’m too lethargic to move, I know I’m going to survive.

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©Kaylee Schuler