My life is slowly being sucked out of me.

I'm learning more about myself everyday. I realised I derive pleasure just from having a purpose in life. From pursuing this purpose. By pursuing this purpose, I'm pretty much preoccupying myself from thinking about other horrible things that lurk in my mind. It's a mark of possible optimism, used to blind me of my constant bleakness. Yet, at the same time, as I pursue this purpose, it's taking a lot of energy out of me. Or what's left of me. I know the inevitable is going to happen. I don't know if I can take another blow to my ego again. Why am I still pushing it? I'm hoping. Hoping for a turning point in life. I feel like my house has just been torn down in a natural disaster yet I'm planning to work the next day.