Suddenly a feeling washed over me today. I am certain my life is useless. I’m squandering it away, laying on the couch, knitting, watching BBC documentaries.
This is a logical conclusion.
I am not using my brainpower, I am not using my artistic skills, I’m not even using my hands in making a nice home. I have no children to fill my life (for that is what they do, wether or not having children is the purpose of life itself). (I have no idea, I never wanted them. But I hear they can unleash the strongest love you’ll ever experience inside a parent, a feeling that strong surely makes for a meaningful life?)
I have no career, no project that is building, no affair that is growing.
Therefor my life is meaningless. Without purpose. Worthless.
Make no mistake, I’m not a dulled potatoe, I do experience a lot, laying here on the couch resting. I experience a lot of feelings. I see a lot. I think a lot. There is a lot to be pondered, about the world, the peoples, nature, nurture, life, colours, cats.
But it is all inside me. There is no outer manifestation of it. No book, no essay, no ongoing conversation, no art, no garden. It fleets. Isn’t it therefor meaningless? It sure feels like it.
The scary thing is that thousands, no millions!, of people have lived before me and have had this dept of inner life. No trace of them exists. We all look at the philosophers whose names have made it into Wikipedia and we admire them for they were meaningful. But luck has a lot to do with wether or not you end up on Wikipedia and/or wether you are deemed a philosopher. The names we know are but small portion of the real thinkers, the wise ones. All the wise women nobody noticed. Notices.
I’m not saying I’m one of those. I am saying I’m one of the ones whose inner kingdom doesn’t come out, visible to the outer world.
Pffft, I don’t even know if my inner kingdom is much of a kingdom at all. Worth ruling. Worth traveling through. Worth documenting.
But it’s the only one I know and I do enjoy my thoughts and feelings and riches. But is it worth anything? Am I worth anything?
These feelings, these notions of uselessness, are never far from my conscious. They fleet under the surface. Sometimes they flare up. And when they do they feel very true.
Not only do I feel useless, I can logically fund this opinion. On top of that: I KNOW it to be true.
So that are 3 times me telling I’m useless and there isn’t a thing to be done about it.
Well, in the last few years I have learned one thing about these truths. They are chemically induced. Usually it’s a Lithium shortage that raises them. Paired with a little low progesterone. I have learned I have to ignore these feelings. Get my supplements. Wait a while.
I cannot tell you (or myself) where or what is wrong in these truths. Like I said, logically it is rock solid. It fééls very true too. And I know it in my core to be true. Three times truth.
The only thing I can bring to the table as a countermeasure (other than my pill bottles) is that the whole train of thought must be based on a false premise. The train itself is good logic and solid. Hence the premise must be faulty.
I must be judging life, my life, by a standard that is not right. Not appropriate. It may be a focus on monetary value, it may be a longing for public appreciation, it may be a dismissed appreciation of the love my friends have for me, it may be a felt superiority to an animal’s life, but somewhere I’ve made a faulty assumption of how to measure a worthy life. A purposeful life.
Like I said, I can’t see it. I cannot even feel it when I am in this state.
And on top: this is a chronic enemy, these feelings of inadequacy are always present. Sometimes they drift to the surface. Sometimes they engulf me. But they are always here, in me.
Of course I am not convinced they are wrong at all! Not when the flare up and not when they lay in wait. I often wonder if they are not a core problem issue in me and should be addressed together with a psychologist. Or psychiatrist.
But they must be untrue. Must be.
- Because one cannot live and be worthless.
- Because there are a lot of faulty assumptions about worth installed in every child and I’m sure I have not addressed all of mine yet.
- Because people are burdened by their capacity to think and to judge. Judging is like a knee jerk reaction, I’m not convinced yet it is a good habit.
- Because I wouldn’t dream of using the same judging on another person and his/her life and its meaningfullness.
- Because I do not hold animals or plants to the same measurements of worthfullness
- Because assuming wrong premisses and wrong opinions is a better starting point than assuming being right. Simple statistics.
- Because these convictions get dampened by altering the body’s chemistry, being it by taking progesterone or a brisk walk outside.
But all these fighting resolutions are of no use when I’m in that state… I feel worthless and I know I cannot stamp out the core of that conviction.
A frustrating state to be in because this sucks up energy and time, things I could put to use so much better. If I could find a good purpose…