What’s the Point?

“What’s the Point?”

Lately, I’ve been sitting in silence a lot. The kind of silence that isn’t peaceful, but heavy. The kind where you start asking yourself questions you don’t really want to answer. Questions like, What’s the point? Why am I even doing any of this? Who would even notice if I stopped?

That’s where I’ve been—mentally and emotionally. Stuck in this strange fog where nothing feels meaningful. My drive has flatlined. My motivation feels like it packed up and moved without leaving a forwarding address. I scroll past things that used to excite me. I stare at blank pages. I cancel plans. And I feel…empty.

There’s this particular ache that comes from feeling like you don’t have a purpose. It’s not just sadness. It’s this unsettling mixture of loneliness, apathy, and self-doubt. You start second-guessing everything. And worse, you start believing the lie that you’re alone in feeling this way.

I’ll be honest: I’ve also been struggling with friendship. Real, deep, call-you-at-2am type of friendship. I have people in my life. But sometimes it still feels like I don’t really have anyone. Not someone who truly gets me or shows up when the silence gets too loud. I find myself being “the strong one,” the encourager, the busy one, the guy who’s always doing—but rarely receiving that same energy back.

And when you feel isolated in your friendships, it only deepens the sense of purposelessness. Because connection is tied to purpose. When we feel disconnected, we feel adrift.

So what do you do when you feel like this?

Well, first, you tell the truth. Even if your voice shakes. Even if no one seems to ask. You say: I’m not okay right now. Because honesty is the first crack in the wall that depression builds around you.

Then, you remind yourself that purpose doesn’t have to be some grand mission or Instagram-worthy moment. Sometimes, purpose is getting out of bed. Sometimes, it’s feeding your dog. Or making someone smile. Or writing something honest, like this, in hopes that someone else feels seen.

I don’t have a neat ending for this reflection. I wish I could wrap it all up with a motivational quote or a five-step solution. But the truth is—I’m still in it. Still searching. Still hoping.

If you’re feeling this way too, I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re not weak. You’re human. You’re allowed to be in the valley. And you’re still worthy of love, purpose, and connection—even when you can’t see it right now.

We’ll find our way out, eventually. Even if we have to crawl.

—Dr. Nick 🤍