Heh, we are almost the same age and I have the same problem.

I just don't care about anything that much. Not even things that are stupid to care about, like video games or tv shows. I go through life pretending to have some kind of passion, or trying to convince myself to be interested in things.

Living in the mountains with basic necessities is something I'd like to do. My partner bought a house and we are living together, we should be married but that hasn't happened because we are so bad at managing life. We are not out in the moutains on a nice size property as we'd wanted, but we are pretty close to that ideal. At least, having property is a step closer.

When did your disinterest in things/lack of motivation start? Was it always like that, truly?

As a kid I was very passionate, strong-willed, independent, determined, etc. and experience beat it out of me over the years until seeking solitude, comfort and stability has become a core drive over impressing my personality on the world.

Somewhere I internalized the expectation that my desires and plans will only lead to misery and disappointment. As a youth, I never had a concrete vision of the future, but put everything I had into the present, believing whatever came would work out. That didn't bear out well, so next I tried a carefully concieved, well-thought, and far-reaching plan. I completed that, and it didn't work out, either.

Now I just want to hide. I have no clue what I'm supposed to care about. I don't have children, I left my career recently, I'm not a big family person, I have no singular interest I obsess over.

Trying to trace my motivations, I realize it sucks all my energy to avoid being screwed over, or navigate life in any way that is fair or just. Those failures really sting, for some reason - I don't know how others brush it off so easily. You have to fight so hard to do anything - even seeminly simple things - and I just don't want to be a part of all that anymore.

I don't want to participate in this farcical economy, delusional society, maniacal political climate, but I don't have the intelligence or means or fortitude to fix anything, even in some small measure to satisfaction. I don't have a central, inborn sense of purpose or destiny to carry me through. My thresholds of tolerance and endurance have dropped so low, and routine tasks require too much of my emotional resources to complete.

Now that we have a house, I never want to leave it. It is my oasis. I would never set foot off the property if it weren't for the demands of others. It makes me feel guilty and uneasy how every moment I get to spend there is a precious gift that is going to be snatched from me with the next obligation.

Well, that was probably more than anyone needed to hear.