It all clicked at age 16:

Grew up kind of religious in a poor neighborhood, in a tough city, in a third-world nation. The main ideas, beliefs, and ceremonies were there.

Parents grew up in violent rural towns in my home country. They moved around a lot, fought a lot, taught me some weird tenets such as "do not trust anyone but yourself" or "do not back down from a fight even if it kills you". On top of the realities of growing up in a place like that, they would beat my ass to the point of blood and bruises almost every week: their excuse was that at least they were not hurting me (breaking bones). I grew up seeing their "discipline" as a power move (especially my mother crying on demand so that my dad would beat my ass), and as that fight that I should never back away from. Dad migrated and left mom: I flourished in the streets with their intensive training.

I was brought to live with my dad and had a pretty standard teenage stage: dealt with my low self-esteem, went to school dances, joined regular classes after some years of learning the language, got to go on school trips, looked into colleges with my friends, took AP classes, joined clubs, attended a summer camp once, worked a few years after graduation and eventually I got to go to college (I will always be grateful to this nation for allowing me to show that I was a normal kid, and for giving me the chance to be one). At age 16, I remember that I was pulling my first all nighter when it happened. I had isolated myself for a couple of months: I decorated my room with christmas lights despite not knowing that college students did the same with their dorms. I had pasted my art on my walls, and I would spend my nights recording and editing surreal stuff in my camcorder while listening to surreal and indie music from pirated Canadian radio stations.

I had been trying to reconcile my religious beliefs with the knowledge being imparted in the classroom, with my life experiences, and with things that I had read on my school's library. that night it clicked that it was pretty much made up and it hit me like a ton of bricks: What about my deceased siblings? cousins? grandpa? I had considered the military in order to be like my cool military & religious uncles who I thought were brave. But if their bravery came from the promise of heaven, was is bravery still? What about traditions? christmas? To keep this as short as possible, it scrambled my world view.

I am now in my mid 20's, I guess you could say that I have come far -especially if you take into account where I come from, but idk. I still do things and put all my effort into them, but I know that it just doesn't mean that much. Sure, I can be mr. cool guy: living in the city, cooking for my girlfriend and helping others succeed and feel good, but that is about it for me. Everything else is done out of biological or social need (i.e. you won't get hired in that field if you have a history of depression), and I guess that you could say that I am content so far, but the more I go out and experience the world, the more everything seems the same. I don't even know where I got the notion that travel would help me.

This feeling is slow to progress and it leaves space to "live", but it can't be fought for it makes logical sense.