I've been on a slow but steady decline for the past several years. I don't move at all, barely leaving my room let alone the house; I've taken to eating shit I order out instead of cooking meals myself; I don't get involved with any local orgs besides sending dues every month; I haven't read a book in months; I regularly fail to perform bare minimum hygiene. The only reason I'm able to keep alive at all is because I haven't moved out of my parents' house, burdening them with helping me. It would be understandable if I was living hand to mouth and had barely any free time, but I am one of the small percent of burgers who isn't a month away from destitution and I have more than enough free time. Not to mention I receive no shortage of help.
Since I can't blame my material circumstances, I can only conclude that I am this way because I always refuse to take personal responsibility. I know that changing myself so that I can be, at bare minimum, not a drain on society is going to take a lot of work, work that I always put off due to cowardice. Idealist as it is, I feel like I have some innate metaphysical trait that makes me this way, and the entirety of my failure to pick myself up is due to a moral failing on my part and nothing more.
How do I force myself to unfuck myself so that I can actually be useful for revolution instead of yet another useless first world lotus eater?
you know, the intense survivorship bias of statements like this just hit me for the first time.
most of the people for whom it doesn't get better aren't exactly around to contradict the assertion.
Emotions will always go up and down. Whether material circumstances improve or not, as long as you don’t die you will in most cases feel better at some point.
Statistically we can say that it usually does get better, though the wide margin is narrowing in the US year by year.