Meaning of Life: As Perceived when Depressed

[Mood Alert – Depression]

This free verse poem was written during an episode of depression. It illustrates that life cannot be accurately perceived when under the influence of a mood-altering condition.

 

Questioning the Meaning of Life

while peering through the lens of depression

 

Every day life confronts with the same hard questions …

evoking the continual self-questioning …

Who are you…really?

Why are you still here?

What right do you have to even be alive?

As they echo inside my head,

the questions are not mere existential pondering,

but blunt and brutal accusations

against my right to exist,

to be human,

to have value,

to expect to love or be loved.

Don’t you think everyone around you would be better off without you?

Why won’t you just die and leave everyone else alone?

Probably even God thinks you were a mistake!

Why don’t you kill yourself … then you can tell Him face to face what you think of this mess of a life He gave you?

Job’s comforters are always there,

in my thoughts

like a crowd of voices,

cheering me on,

while I am running full speed

toward the brink of oblivion

…and final destruction.

You must have done something really bad … because you deserve to be so sad!

Why don’t you just snap out of it?

Get over it!

Think positive!

Things aren’t as bad as they seem!

Just do something for someone else

and stop thinking about yourself so much…

Besides, you don’t really deserve to be happy anyway…

so at least do something to make someone else’s life better!

Those jeering voices won’t listen to my defense…

Even though,

looking through the filter of my emotions,

to me this makes perfect sense:

What can I possibly give to someone else?

If I am nothing…

and I have nothing worth giving to anyone,

and since I don’t deserve to live,

how can I presume to give…

when all I am, or have,

which I might have given

is only that which is nothing itself?

Is a gift worth nothing really a gift at all?

Isn’t that more like a drop off at the garbage dump?

Life is sacred, so they say…

but what is so sacred about the pain day after day?

Suffering, self-sacrifice and pain

builds character,

builds strength,

and builds endurance…

or so it is said!

That all sounds so nice and noble,

but sounds so hollow,

once inside my head.

If the future beyond this life is so much better,

why then wouldn’t everyone want to be dead!?

 

 

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About Hoosedwhut

Engineer - by education, training, and career experience. Philosopher - by inclination and choice. Amateur psychologist - by instinct and necessity. Amateur theologian - by birth into two distinct worlds...
This entry was posted in Being Human (?), Psyche. Bookmark the permalink.

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