What's the Point?

The hardest nights are the ones where I can't answer that question. Where I can't distinguish my thoughts from Anxiety's and Depression's.

The ones where I can't tell if I'm drowning or treading water nor which I actually want to do.

If I don't know where I'm going, how can I tell if I'm getting there?

If this is what life is, then is there any value in living it?

Are we actually good people?

Facebook makes it harder. I can't handle the sad news as it just shakes these questions to the forefront. Trump destroys more families. Hatred of people takes a front row spot. I want so desperately to be able to stand up and protest and demand action. Instead, I sit on the couch and cry and ask "what's the point?" I don't have faith in humanity. I don't have trust in myself. It doesn't seem like progress. It seems like vapid tv shows and fluff novels have been created and overproduced to pull us into complacency and into a sense that life has meaning if we just laugh enough.

My former therapist would point out that no emotion lasts forever. We are happy for some time; sad, angry and fearful for others. It's supposed to remind me that this feeling of absolute desolation doesn't last but on nights like these, it reminds me that even if I move past it once, it'll be back again.

So again I ask "what's the point?" If you can't stay happy forever, is it worth going through this in order to feel happy again for some time only to go through this again AND again AND AGAIN.

Are we assigning purpose to idle playthings in order to feel okay each morning? Is there a deeper reason why anyone should want to live beyond make friends, make money, do things?

When I can't answer these questions, I cry.