Yes, I'm over 35. In fact, tomorrow, I will be 53 (just reverse the numbers)
As the years went by, my biggest regret is that I didn't cbt some 26 years ago after a series of tragic events in my life.
But I held on to "hope", thinking that things "will get better" and to "just hang in there". I did, but nothing really got any better, only worse.
I ask myself:
*Am I any happier today than I was 26 years ago? Answer: no!
*Am I any healthier now than 26 years ago? No.
*Am I any younger now than I was 26 years ago? Of course not.
*Am I any richer now than 26 years ago? No.
*Am I (or the people of the world for that matter, after the computer revolution, 9/11, COVID, etc...) freer now than 26 years ago? No.
*Are any of my loved ones (parents) any better off now than 26 years ago? No. (My mother is 87 and in a home with Alzheimer's and my father is 88 and has skin cancer)
I can ask myself these same questions from a future perspective:
Will I be any happier/healthier/younger/richer/freer/ 26 years from now (in the year 2048) when I reach the age of 79?
Again, the most likely and obvious answer will still be no.
So from my perspective, I can also ask myself, what have I got to look forward to? Just more headaches and heartaches. Encountering more problems and obstacles, then I die anyway. No matter what we do in life, we are all just killing time until time kills us.
Being dead is the total and complete absence of all awareness and sensation. After we have died and the brain ceases to function, we will not know were are dead nor will we know we were ever alive. So why should I continue on for another X number of years/decades? Life is a pointless exercise in futility.
"Life was not a valuable gift, but death was.
Life was a fever-dream made up of joys embittered by sorrows,
pleasure poisoned by pain; a dream that was a nightmare-confusion of spasmodic
and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exultations, happinesses, interspersed with long-drawn
miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments, defeats, humiliations, and despairs--
the heaviest curse devisable by divine ingenuity; but death was sweet, death was gentle,
death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest
and forgetfulness; death was man's best friend; when man could endure life no longer,
death came and set him free."
~Letters from the Earth, Mark Twain (1909)