C
closet_catholic_1
Guest
I have always been very aware of and affected by all of the suffering in the world. My own, those around me, as well as people everywhere on earth. Though my friends would describe me as cheerful and funny, deep down I am far too serious and sensitive.
Over the past few months I have cried every night, regardless of how good or bad my day was. I have been diagnored with depression of PTSD. I have tried various forms of therapy, medications, and lifestyle changes in effort to mitegate the feelings of sadness, fear, and hopelessness I experience.
“You deserve to be happy!” My friends tell me. But how can this be true? When there is so much pain and suffering in the word, why am I entitled to happiness? There are thousands of people on earth who live and die knowing nothing but suffering – people in war-torn places in Africa and the middle east, people in my own city who live on the streets.
I thought I could ease my own suffering my helping others, so I started volunteering at a soup kitchen. I have always had a special connection with elderly people, and I instantly began connecting to the people I served. I grew especially attached to a man named “John” who came in every day with his dog. Last week John was beaten near to death by some teenagers, for no reason. Unconscious and unable to seek shelter, he suffered from severe frostbite along with broken bones. He was taken to the hospital, and I was his only visitor. I held his hand as he cried because his dog had been taken away by animal control. I held his hand two nights later as he died of internal bleeding. I truly feel that I, a near-stranger, am the only person grieving this man. That saddens me, and what saddens me more is that there are hundreds of others like him who have no one to care about them.
Sometimes it feels like I’m not doing any good at all. Or at least any good that really amounts to anything. Everyday I feel more certain that evil is winning in the world. Sometimes I feel like my whole purpose in life is to suffer, and that happiness is something I’ll not be able to attain until I go to Heaven…if I go to Heaven.
I don’t know how to stop feeling so miserable.
Over the past few months I have cried every night, regardless of how good or bad my day was. I have been diagnored with depression of PTSD. I have tried various forms of therapy, medications, and lifestyle changes in effort to mitegate the feelings of sadness, fear, and hopelessness I experience.
“You deserve to be happy!” My friends tell me. But how can this be true? When there is so much pain and suffering in the word, why am I entitled to happiness? There are thousands of people on earth who live and die knowing nothing but suffering – people in war-torn places in Africa and the middle east, people in my own city who live on the streets.
I thought I could ease my own suffering my helping others, so I started volunteering at a soup kitchen. I have always had a special connection with elderly people, and I instantly began connecting to the people I served. I grew especially attached to a man named “John” who came in every day with his dog. Last week John was beaten near to death by some teenagers, for no reason. Unconscious and unable to seek shelter, he suffered from severe frostbite along with broken bones. He was taken to the hospital, and I was his only visitor. I held his hand as he cried because his dog had been taken away by animal control. I held his hand two nights later as he died of internal bleeding. I truly feel that I, a near-stranger, am the only person grieving this man. That saddens me, and what saddens me more is that there are hundreds of others like him who have no one to care about them.
Sometimes it feels like I’m not doing any good at all. Or at least any good that really amounts to anything. Everyday I feel more certain that evil is winning in the world. Sometimes I feel like my whole purpose in life is to suffer, and that happiness is something I’ll not be able to attain until I go to Heaven…if I go to Heaven.
I don’t know how to stop feeling so miserable.

