For the past couple of weeks, I was making an earnest attempt to get my life back together. I quit drinking (12 drinks a day down to 0). I started eating healthy and working out again. I reconnected with some of the friends that I've been ignoring for the last couple of years. I even went out and got laid for first time in awhile. Everything I could think of to make me feel like life was worth living. And it really made no difference.
At no point in this experiment did I experience an increase in happiness or satisfaction. I felt a little better physically in the mornings, but that was it. My mind state remained miserable and pessimistic. I continued to feel like my life had no purpose. The idea of working for the next 30 years still filled me with dread. The idea of getting into an emotionally intimate relationship with another person still filled me with disgust. All in all, it was an utterly meaningless endeavor.
I guess the one thing that came out of it is that I now know for sure that I won't be missing out on anything if I do finally gather the nerve to CTB. Ever since I started going down this path, I've wondered if there were any changes I could make that would help. I can now say for sure that there are not. My problem is not that I'm not measuring up to life. My problem is that life, even a decent life, is just not worth the effort. The best things in life - good health, good food, sex, friendships - they all take a lot of work to get, and they still go away in the end. Even in the best case, if you do everything the right way, it's still a lifetime of struggle for a few moments of pleasure. And that just doesn't seem worth it to me. I'm still too cowardly to end my suffering right now. But at least I know for sure that I'm not missing out on anything if I do.
At no point in this experiment did I experience an increase in happiness or satisfaction. I felt a little better physically in the mornings, but that was it. My mind state remained miserable and pessimistic. I continued to feel like my life had no purpose. The idea of working for the next 30 years still filled me with dread. The idea of getting into an emotionally intimate relationship with another person still filled me with disgust. All in all, it was an utterly meaningless endeavor.
I guess the one thing that came out of it is that I now know for sure that I won't be missing out on anything if I do finally gather the nerve to CTB. Ever since I started going down this path, I've wondered if there were any changes I could make that would help. I can now say for sure that there are not. My problem is not that I'm not measuring up to life. My problem is that life, even a decent life, is just not worth the effort. The best things in life - good health, good food, sex, friendships - they all take a lot of work to get, and they still go away in the end. Even in the best case, if you do everything the right way, it's still a lifetime of struggle for a few moments of pleasure. And that just doesn't seem worth it to me. I'm still too cowardly to end my suffering right now. But at least I know for sure that I'm not missing out on anything if I do.
