From day to day, I’m never really sure if life is worth living. I live an objectively good life with people who care about me and a job I like, but I have chronic depression, and most days feel worse than they do better. I’m an intelligent person and I’m well aware that this is how most people feel, but I can never shake the fact that more moments are bad than are good, and the good moments aren’t worth living for. I’m still here because I had a friend die unexpectedly years ago from what may have been a suicide, and I’ve seen the effects it has on the people who are closest to that person. I would ruin so many lives by choosing to take my own, so I continue to live life as if everything is fine.
