but what if I wasn't a part of my story

fuck it

It's July's 13th and I am kinda broken, somehow done.. I have 2 jobs and a freelance position, yet I am lost. I am done with life.
After a long conversation with myself today, I realised that I use work as a form of escapism. I can't face me, nor who I've became.. so I quite literally "work it out". I have a perfect life, I have friends, a job, a loving family and a life that is filled with opportunities for me.
But.. I'm.. quite.. lost.
It kinda hurts, but it quite doesn't.