Purposelessness

It’s not like I’m particularly sad all the time. Neither am I never happy. There are moments of both, little flashes of light, great big fireworks, annoying little potholes along the way and pits of despair. And yet they all seem meaningless.
So what if I get stuck in a pothole for a while? The fireworks all fizzle out and fade back into darkness eventually. I guess for a few seconds someone sees them and that makes them happy, but that’s about it. Beyond making other people happy, my life seems to lack purpose.
It feels like I’m just passing time doing this and that, hobbies I don’t even care for all of which I find quite boring for the most part. Nothing amuses me for very long. Nothing I do produces anything particularly useful to anyone. Even my work at my job is overrated. I don’t quite understand why anyone would want the kind of reports I produce. And if I weren’t producing them? Someone else would be. No great reason why me. That is when I even do work at work. I waste a lot of time at work. And then some more at home.
So here I am wasting my time, trying to fill one day after the other. Trying to paint something with meaning and ending up with nothing but a bin full of very expensive scrunched up sheets of paper.
What it comes down to is that I don’t seem to have a purpose. But then how could I? A thing has a purpose to somebody. If there is no great somebody who wants to achieve something then how could I have a purpose? I’m not a tin opener (or a garden hose or any of those things people compare us to) in the hands of some deity.
So maybe I’m living for the people around me. They want me sometimes. That being said, if I weren’t around, most of them would just as easily want someone else. And who wants to be that person who needs people to need them anyway? So clingy. Not me.
I can’t even really express this absolute pointless emptiness I feel. I’m that useless. Is it dark? No. not particularly. I want to say it’s numb, but not even that. There are colours and feelings, but they just don’t matter.
Shortly., I’m bored, empty, lonely, useless and I just want to not be those things anymore. And it’s only 4 p.m. there’s a whole evening and night to get through before work tomorrow. At least it isn’t weekend yet.

(((hug)))z Mary. I have a lot of the same issues. Keep your chin up and see you in chat!

Mary, try thinking and focusing on reasons and purposes why you do or like things that u do. They may be irrelevant in scope of Universe, but the thing is that they have to be relevant to you.

Mary, be careful with yourself it sounds like your in an episode of depression, not that life is just not going our way right. We can't understand life when we are in depression, and reality is hard to make out. People do need you, there is a reason why your in those areas of life right. You obvisly do good work no matter how boring it may seem to you it means something to someone we just don't see the whole. Be careful you don't lost your job struggles don't seem as bad as they are to us, and trust from someone who has been there and still is you don't want to lose your job. Get some help, talk to someone one find something you do enjoy etc do you have a therapist? I have a T and mine hs helped me understand I do have a purpose and not all the problems around me are my fault. Get some help and good luck

This reply is sort of off topic, so apologies
When I am depressed I have that same "What it comes down to is that I don’t seem to have a purpose." feeling. That feeling of being here, but not being a part of being here

I force myself to have purposes. Who would fill my bird feeders I if was not here. The birds count on my feeders, any they might die.

Small attainable things, but nonetheless a valid purpose

Does this make sense?

Anhedonia. That is what you are feeling and it is a symptom of depression. With that said, I fight it every day.

Ginger Mary --
There is a hypnotic indulgence to your lament of purposelesness, I feel myself drawn in and I recognize the hidden revelry in exposing the farce for what it is.
I sometimes feel such an indulgence at night. I close my eyes and feel entirely alone, unwanted, unloved, and a suicidal image occurs without me wanting it. I can indulge it, just as a game, or I can shove it away shocked.
Self pity has its perks. When we are advised to talk positively towards ourselves, to praise ourselves, encourage ourselves, cheer ourselves on, build on our goals, this sort of thing, there seems, in the throes of our depression, to be a falsity in this that actual feels worse than just admitting I don't want to do it, I can't do it anyway, and further, if I do accomplish a few things, I can't sustain it, I never have, I've tried, I can't.

Then there is the self discipline to force yourself to be positive even when it doesn't feel positive, the way I force myself to eat though I have no appetite or force myself to do my work though my heart isn't in it. There is value to this discipline, but it is an entirely different expereince than when I am inspired, and enjoy eating, invent meals, gain some weight and celebrate about it, enjoy my work and dazzle my boss, flirt with every woman who crosses my path and feel myself attractive and desired. Certainly when I am WITH, there is no need for discipline. It all comes naturally and with little effort. Yet lacking that inpsiration, that spirit, when it hurts and I force myself to go through the motions, even though I am working much harder, I can take little pride in the results.

This, I think, is simply the facts of the situation. We can make the most of it without expecting it to be the best thing imaginable. What is the best we can make of it? That is enough.