I hate my life. Simple strategies to end hopelessness and self-loathing for good. Your alarm goes off at 6.30 a.m.

Stumbling out of bed, you brew a strong cup of coffee to get through the day.

Sitting in your car, you pause before starting the engine. I can't keep doing this, you think to yourself.

Driving to work, you arrive at your soul-sucking job with only minutes to spare, as you walk

through the office doors and all too familiar feeling creeps in. You hate it here. You hate the

menial tasks that fill your waking hours. You hate the manager who seems to revel in breathing

down your neck. Sinking into your chair, you stare numbly at your computer, a single thought

commandering your conscious mind. What's going on?

While the hours crawl by, you are left with an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and self-loading.

You upload files, respond to emails, and click through a sea of meaningless tasks. What's the point

you often think to yourself? As the clock strikes 4.59 p.m., you jump out of your chair, sprinting out of the

office, I'm finally free, you think. But the nature of that freedom is elusive. Free to do what?

Free from what? Speeding home, cutting people off in your way in a rush to hang out with the one

friend who has never left you, the friend who has been there

through thick and thin, always available to numb you from the realities of the monotonous grind,

your drink, or shall I say, drug of choice. You delve into an evening of sedation in a desperate

attempt to feel something, anything other than how you actually feel. Dropping into your couch, you turn on the television and begin your nightly ritual of

escapism through mindless entertainment.

Scrolling through an endless sea of movies, television, video games, porn, and social

media feeds.

Midnight comes too soon.

As you drift often to sleep, you stare at the blank ceiling above you and wonder,

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