Thoughts of a Depressed Mind #2

The thought that often plagues me, is what is life, really? There are almost 8 billion human beings on this planet, and countless other living things. Life is such a fragile construct. You are born, you live, and you die, by old age if you’re lucky. These things that whiz into my head that are barely there long enough to get them written down. Tackling the biggest question here, really high aspirations, I know. I just can’t help but wonder why am I here. Why was I birthed to my parents when I could have been any number of other children born. Why was I born into such a broken body, with an equally fractured mind.

Why do I want to die?

That really isn’t the right question.

Why do I not want to live?

Why do I so desperately want to fight what I am designed to do, what billions have done before me? It is this question that keeps me up at night, which as you all probably know drives me further into this darkness. I can honestly say that I don’t understand life, or living, on any level. It just seems so painful and pointless. Now I’m not thinking of ending my own life, that’s not something that I can do, no matter how badly it calls to me. Yet, it still puzzles me. Why would anyone voluntarily decide to live. To others my way of thinking might seem strange, even scary or dangerous. However, I pose the question, why do they think their way is right? Weren’t we given this mental ability so that we question everything around us? Why is not wanting to live such a strange thing? It will always baffle me I’m afraid. As even though I plan to live a long and healthy life, I can’t help but to wonder, despite the good and bad times, will it be worth it? Will I be able to lay on my deathbed and look back and be proud of what I’ve accomplished? I can’t see that happening, because humans are such insignificant creatures on their own. Everything I will ever do in my life will not leave a single impact in the drop of human history that was my life.

I know what you’re saying, “wow, making history? Set your sights a little lower and you’d probably achieve whatever it is you want!” I would completely agree with you, but this is how I think. I have to have a purpose for living, I can’t just exist. This is the side keeping me alive, ever fighting the darkness inside me. It’s tiring being the battlefield for a war in which you don’t care who wins.

I always feel like there is something crucial missing from me, or I’ve lost something important. Whatever that is, I continue my daily grind of simply surviving. Making sure that at best, my depression gets a stalemate against my ambitions. I hope that you all enjoyed reading, and aren’t to fearful for me, because don’t worry, I might sound bad, but I’m surviving anyway I can.

Thank you all,

Wolfgang

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3 Responses

  1. Living is slowly killing me. I actively have to force myself to stay alive. Life is a hellish nightmare to which there is no relief. Yet I stay. I don’t want to. I have to keep forcing myself to remember it is a disease and though my disease(s) may kill me eventually, it isn’t today.

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