On bad days I believe I am irrelevant and worthless, and that I have a meaningless exisitence. On good days I recognise that it isn't just me, the whole human race is exactly the same, the only difference is most people don't have that insight and delude themsleves that somehow they do matter. When I'm depressed it matters that I can't find a meaning, when I'm not depressed meaning is unimportant. The only thing that works for me is to look for the little tiny differences that one makes, like giving a rough sleeper the sandwich that you couldn't face at lunch, or the caterpillars that I picked off my plants made a meal for a family of blue tits. The nicest person I ever met was constantly delighted by tiny little acts like this and not only was she the nicest person I've met, she was the happiest person too. Unfortunately, it is never as easy to do the things that might help as it is to write them down, otherwise I'd be happy now and saving blue tits instead of posting on PC.