Life, woth living?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I know my last piece was supposed to be a bit more inspirational and have a bit of a "life's not so bad" attitude but this is a bit more me when not one little thing is going well in my life.

Submitted: April 13, 2009

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Submitted: April 13, 2009

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I will not kill myself, I could not bring myself to burden my family with the guilt of producing someone who’s desire to die outweighed that of compassion for one’s own family and the grief a suicide would cause. However, if for some divine reason I should be blown in front of an oncoming truck or a brand new tyre on my car should inexplicably burst on the motorway or a slip in the kitchen should cause me to bang my head then I would welcome it. I would welcome the relief from this wretched existence I would not wish on anyone, I know my problems are trivial and pathetic in comparison to almost anyone passing me by on the street, they have debt, cancer, a child with MS, divorce or redundancy and that is just from a demographic of a few hundred you would pass on a busy high street in this country. Factor in sections of Europe expanding to Africa and beyond and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that 9/10 people would trade my life with theirs in a second. But all these facts and figures are only cosmetic, aesthetic in their affect and redundant in their relevancy, the only real measure of life is surely satisfaction in one’s own skin. There are many solutions to emotional problems, solutions forced on you by others who can guarantee their affect and success but they are almost always variations on ignoring said problem, running away, not talking about it, drinking, smoking, anything. There may not even be a real solution to life’s problems, if you have a problem, then you must carry that indefinitely until you either forget about it, or it becomes solved via a definitive solution e.g. money problems.

I feel my situation is different in that there is no tangible reason for me to feel this way, I am no worse off than the average 22 year old, I have no physical afflictions, my family are (almost) all healthy and I have almost limitless potential yet is this, along with the reasons outlined above that precisely define my sense of despair and hopelessness. My problems have become so internalised and cyclical that I will never be free from them, I cannot escape myself. If I cannot feel some sense of satisfaction, some comfort in my life when it is this, superficially good, how will I cope when my life is burdened with the amalgamation of life’s problems waiting to saddle me in the not too distant future.


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