There Is No Point

What's the point of it all?

How's that for an opener. I'm not right in the head, if that keeps popping into my consciousness.

It's the tail-end of winter. One more month (hopefully) and we'll be done with this. Hopefully morale will increase with the rising temperature.

So, no worries. I'm plugging along. Just not at an ideal place mentally right now.

EVERYTHING FEELS WRONG...

The house we got. It's too nice, too big, too new, and TOO MUCH; in a neighborhood that is too cookie-cutter, too expensive, too far away. I love the meadow view and the nearby forest with ample land, but I'm lonely and isolated. I miss the old apartment where I could walk to the village - and I did - even in the winter snow.

Food. I hate it. I hate all of it. I hate thinking about where it came from, how it was grown, what impact it had on the local environment, who is depending on it to live, how much it cost, whether someone used chemicals to grow it, whether it is genetically modified, or contaminated by a nearby genetically modified crop, whether the food that it was sold with on the shelf got sold or thrown away to waste. I don't want to eat anything at all, but then I eat whatever, and I feel sick and nauseous and like a gluttonous fat pig who can't control her willpower.

Leaving the house. I hate going out, especially to run errands, especially errands that involve Spending Money. Which are most. Grocery shopping. A book of stamps to mail a letter. Animal supplies. Every excursion out of the house involves spending money because gas for the car costs money. Because I can't walk anywhere anymore from where we live now.

My body. It doesn't feel like me. It's getting older, and more and more things are going wrong with it, and it doesn't feel good or look right or make me happy. I hate dressing it. I hate most of the things I own to dress it. I hate being a slave to its needs. It is cumbersome and unflattering. And if I want to do things to make it feel a little better - make *me* feel a little better - they require Leaving the House (see above) and Spending Money.

My children. Especially my first born - my daughter. I don't even know her anymore. She is distant and exudes a careless attitude. She goes to school and comes home and goes straight to her room. Calling her to dinner fills me with dread because I am not greeted with gratitude for cooking a meal for her and cleaning up after her but contempt for interrupting her and her life and whatever it is she's doing in her world. And my second born - my son. It is one thing after another. Every fucking day. An e-mail, a call, a complaint. The doctors, the specialists, the tests. The counselors, the therapists, the meetings. Don't get me wrong - I'm grateful for all of the resources and support and they school's efforts to get him help - but I AM SO TIRED of it all.

I AM EXHAUSTED.

What IS the point?

I feel like it is all a pointless struggle, one thing after another, day after day. We work our asses off and then die. What is the point of slaving away at a job to get by during the prime of our lives, with no guarantee we will make it to an age where we can enjoy a potential retirement, if we're so lucky. And in between all that we suck up resources and hurt the earth and eat factory farmed meat and gmo corn and pollute our planet and contribute to overpopulation and the overall depletion of earth's resources. And what is left to show of it? I suppose some things for some of us, that live beyond our death maybe a generation or two. Perhaps a few things for most of us. And only a rare few leave  things behind that are remembered in history and make a difference in the future for more than a couple of generations. Is that the point? To try and be one of those few? That seems far-fetched. Just like the adage, "You can be anything you want to be when you grow up."

No. You can't. It was a lie.

And just maybe there is no point.