In September I quit my job and was 100% set on committing suicide once I ran out of money. I was perfectly content just slowly eating and drinking myself to death since I was gonna be gone soon anyway.

Sibling staged a mini-intervention in December and since then I've been trying to make first steps toward "getting better" but it just seems like a fucking insurmountable task for no reward and it's making me feel worse because I honestly just can't think of any reason *why* I even want to get better. Like eventually I'm going to have to get another job which is gonna make me spiral into misery again anyway, still gonna be alone with no friends, and even if I lose the 100 lbs I need to lose, I'm still a below-average height, below-average looks, balding asian male which is basically a death sentence as far as dating.

Like I cannot even picture what it feels like to just be happy to wake up every day with no purpose or direction lmao. It's just easier to keep spiraling. Path of least resistance or whatever.