The darkness

That emptiness.

That never-ending void.

That fear of the unknown.

That fear of something ‘bad’ lurking in there.

That vulnerability.

That loneliness.

That is why we are afraid of the dark. That is why we cling to ourselves when facing it. That is why we desperately search for a light. That’s why we want someone there with us. But most of us won’t admit this to anyone. We like to pretend that we are brave. That we are strong. That we are not weak.

Having depression is being in the dark all the time.

Depression is the darkness.

I am that void.

I am that emptiness.

I am that shell of a person.

I am that darkness.

I am looking for my light.

I want to glow.

I want to be whole.

It’s time for me to step out of that darkness and bathe in the light.

And the point is. . . .

I’ve recently been thinking about the meaning of life and what the point of it is. Not in a personal, suicidal way. But in a bigger way. As in, what is the point of our existence? Why are we here? Just, why?

I had to have my cat put to sleep a couple of weeks ago and it has broken me. He was my best friend and for all intents and purposes, he was my child. He was my baby boy. I looked after him. I loved him. He relied on me and I relied on him. He was everything to me. And now he’s gone. Forever. And it got me thinking. Everything and everyone we love will leave us or we will leave them. Everything we hold dear, will one day be gone. All we’ll be left with is pain and memories. You never get over losing someone, you just learn to cope. What kind of life is that? Full of pain and suffering. Full of hurt. Full of loss. Full of grief. What is the point in that? I know there are good things in life. There is the love of your friends, family and partner. There are happy times. There are fun times. There are amazing experiences to be had. But for what purpose? To be happy? I don’t think anyone is truly happy. It’s why we strive to do ‘happy’ and ‘fun’ things. It’s why we strive for love. For companionship. It is also why we do stupid things. Things that will give us a rush, to make us feel alive. It’s why there are alcoholics, drug addicts, gambling addicts, sex addicts, adrenaline junkies out there. They are all trying to feel alive. To feel happy.

I think happiness is just an illusion. Something we have created, to try and cope with life. To try and make it feel better. To make us think there is a point to it. There is so much suffering. Everywhere you look, there are people in pain. There are people dying. There are people starving to death. There are people being beaten to death. There are people being murdered. There are children dying. There are animals dying. There are people with physical disabilities. There are people with mental disabilities. There are people killing themselves. And I’m supposed to be happy about this? I’m supposed to think that life is wonderful? We just seem to ignore what is happening around us. Pretend it is not happening. Pretend that life is great.

I know I have depression. I know the way I sometimes view the World is skewered. I know I see the negative in everything and forget about the positives. But a lot of people seem to completely ignore the negatives. Pretend they are not happening. Because if we really looked at this World and our lives, we would realise how fucked up it all is.

I lost my Grandad nearly two years ago. He died from Cancer. I was there with him when he died. I loved him. I might not have always shown it, but I really fucking loved him. And now he’s gone. He’s never coming back. I don’t believe in an afterlife. I don’t believe in any God. I just believe when you die, you’re gone. There’s nothing after that. I wish I did. Maybe then I would get some comfort. He’s gone. My cat’s gone. I will inevitably lose my parents. Everyone just goes. And we’re just supposed to carry on and get on with life. But what is life? What is the master plan? Why are we here? People have been debating this for years. And the truth is. No-one knows. I think we are just here to procreate. Just like every other animal on the planet. We like to think we are more evolved than them. That we have a higher purpose. Bullshit. We are just like them. We procreate it. We pass on our genes. We might have more intelligence. We might have Arts, Politics, Science and Entertainment, but that’s just an illusion. We are trying to kid ourselves that we are more important. We’re not. Unfortunately, we’re just more intelligent, so we have to make ourselves believe there is something more to our lives. When there’s not.

So, I don’t want children. I’ve never wanted children and don’t think I ever will. So what is the purpose of my life? I don’t think there is one. I could be like everyone else and say it’s to be happy. But I have depression. Happiness is something I don’t think I really know. Happiness is like an acquaintance to me. Something I might have seen and felt in passing, but never really known. I could try and fight for my happiness. I might even win. But then something will come and knock it back down. And that something will most likely be loss. But do I let that win? Do I give up now? Or do I stand and fight? Even though I know there will be loss. There will be casualties. There will be pain. There will be suffering.

Is happiness worth it?

Nat xx