Early 2023: The First Arranged Meeting

In May 2023, I went through my first arranged meeting, more out of obligation than desire. Though I went through the motions - holding hands, kissing - each gesture felt hollow and forced. It was like acting in a play where I didn’t know my lines, leaving me feeling even more alienated from myself. The emptiness of these actions only amplified my sense of disconnection.

Return Home and Move to Wuhan

The months at home felt like existing in limbo, leading to my eventual move to Wuhan in March. The city change did nothing to ease the void within. Each day became a reminder that geographical changes couldn’t fix what felt broken inside. The weight of existence grew heavier with each passing day.

The Wuhan Period (March - October)

These months in Wuhan unveiled a devastating truth: nothing seemed to matter anymore. Work felt meaningless, leisure felt empty, and the days blurred together in a haze of numbness. I began to realize that my problem wasn’t about finding the right job or activity - it was a deeper void that nothing seemed capable of filling. The realization that neither work nor rest could bring joy became a constant, haunting companion.

The Chongqing Meeting (National Day 2024)

The Chongqing meeting during National Day felt like a cruel reminder of my situation. Despite trying to maintain low expectations, the experience still managed to push me deeper into despair. My unemployment status was just the surface reason for its failure - underneath lay a profound sense of disconnection from life itself. Each arranged meeting seemed to chip away at whatever remnants of hope I had left.

A New Beginning Through Old Connections

A university classmate’s help led to a software engineering position - a lifeline thrown when I was drowning. Yet, even this positive change feels tinged with darkness. It’s less about career advancement and more about going through the motions, trying to repay a debt to society or myself that I don’t fully understand.

Recent Days and Weekly Rituals

My weekend hikes have become a paradoxical ritual. Each step up the mountain carries the weight of dark thoughts. Sometimes I find myself hoping each hike might be my last - a thought that brings both terror and strange comfort. The physical exertion of climbing doesn’t drown out the internal noise, but at least it gives my darkness a rhythm.

The Reality of My Mental State

The truth is, I feel broken beyond repair. Social interactions, especially these arranged meetings, seem to intensify my pain rather than alleviate it. In solitude, I find a numbing peace, but it’s the peace of resignation rather than healing. Each day feels like carrying a burden that grows heavier, and death often appears as a recurring thought - not as a dramatic end, but as a quiet possibility for relief.

Reflections

This year has taught me that some wounds might not heal. While on paper I’ve made progress - new job, regular exercise - internally, the void remains unchanged. The arranged meetings, though well-intentioned, only served to highlight how disconnected I feel from normal human experiences and expectations. Each step forward in life feels mechanical, driven by external expectations rather than internal desire.