74: The Alibi

Is the pain worth it?

Well, what am I gonna do, turn back? Life is equally lame no matter where I go.

So why am I here, of all the places in the world where I could be equally miserable? Does the experience validate the difficulty?

It isn't that I'm a burden to the world. This talk about being a burden is simply an alibi. A justification. The fact is that I don't want to live. It doesn't seem worthwhile.

But I cannot easily admit that.

And why is that? It is because I cannot point at any great pain that I have to endure. I am not an African war child who has suffered nightmares of brutality from Day 1. I have not even lost a family member, I don't have any diseases or deformities, I do not live in need, I have not had to endure anything that could remotely qualify as "suffering".

But the smallest things -- really really ridiculous things -- make me wish that I weren't alive. Moments when someone disagrees with me and refuses to see my point of view. Moments when I lie awake thinking about the work load of the next few days and wishing I could at least face it in a well-rested state. Moments when I remember random hurtful things I have done to others. Moments when I realize that I probably have to walk this planet for a few decades yet, and that the good years are over. My default response to all this is: "I wouldn't be having this problem now if I hadn't been born."

Moments when I'm walking through a beautiful landscape with blisters on my feet, an injured knee, a heavy and un-ergonomic pack tearing my back in unnatural ways, and a collection of sore and stiff muscles.

It's not that the pain of my life is great; it's just that it's not worthwhile. I don't know what I'm getting in return.

Others would see a lot that I'm getting in return. They would say my life is great. They would go through much greater pain to achieve some of the joys that I take for granted. Others have very very difficult lives, and would gladly trade with me.

I know that, and it never fails to make me feel guilty. But it does not evoke my sympathy. If others' lives are more difficult but they want to live, then why should I feel sorry for them? They are in a transaction that, in spite of the price, they consider worthwhile. They are the lucky ones.

But I do not know how to make myself consider a transaction to be worthwhile. You either feel like you're paying a fair price for something or you don't. How can you make yourself feel the opposite? All my life I've been told to be thankful for what I have, but in spite of all my attempts I have never been very good at it. I've felt guilty for what I have -- I felt like resources were being unevenly distributed to favor those (like me) who have no appreciation for them -- but that is not the same as gratitude.

It seems that gratitude consists in part of realizing that you are the recipient of something good you do not deserve, and also in part of having the ability to enjoy this good. How do you achieve that? How do you learn to enjoy something? How do you convince yourself that you don't deserve it? By looking at the misery of those less fortunate than yourself? How do you convince yourself that they don't deserve something better? How do you do that without feeling guilty, and allowing the guilt to destroy your enjoyment?

I don't know what gratitude means.