I think about dying but I don't want to die.

Not even close. In fact, my problem is the complete opposite. 

I want to live, I want to escape.

I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. 

There's so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all.

I'm still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can't quite figure out what the hell I'm doing 

or how to get out of it.