Many of us know of the so called "Pandora's Box" from the Greek myths; however, most of us don't realize what the true story was. In the early days a god, Prometheus, gave humans fire and was chained to a mountain to have his liver eaten out on a daily basis, that however, was the god's punishment, Zeus still had to decide how to punish humans, so he gave us women. A horribly misogynistic point of view as written, but that's the way it was told. The first woman was created, given the name Pandora, which if broken down means all given, or all presents, and all the gods were asked to give her something. This beautiful woman was then given to Prometheus's brother and while he was away she opened a box that was said to contain all of the evils in the world (old age, sorrow, misery, hate...etc...). In a panic it is said that she slammed the lid shut, leaving one feeling behind: Hope.
There are a couple of views that can be taken here, as to what exactly that means; however, both of them eventually lead to the human race as being "hopeless".
All of the above is so that I could get to this point. Recently, I have been feeling happy which is highly irregular for me. As such, I haven't truly been happy in several years as depression has gotten the better of my teenage/college years. I attribute this to me finally giving into my horrible opposition to anti-depressants and convincing myself that they might be a good thing. The paradox is this, I am happy, but I am almost miserable because I am happy. I mean, is the human race truly hopeless? Am I, in particular, truly hopeless? It seems, that with my happiness per usual comes misery. I have been so accustomed to being in a depressed state that it got to the point of me thinking that's who I really was and now that I'm not there anymore, I miss it. In addition to missing it, part of me truly believes that I don't deserve happiness, self-sabotage is my hobby, and I'm quite exceptional at it. I'm really not sure at this point if I'm a lost cause, or this is a transition state, what I am sure of is that I feel comfortable stating these things on this site for whatever reason even though I'm new, so...if you're reading this, thank you, I may never know who you are, where you're from, or even if you read it, but thank you none-the-less.
There are a couple of views that can be taken here, as to what exactly that means; however, both of them eventually lead to the human race as being "hopeless".
All of the above is so that I could get to this point. Recently, I have been feeling happy which is highly irregular for me. As such, I haven't truly been happy in several years as depression has gotten the better of my teenage/college years. I attribute this to me finally giving into my horrible opposition to anti-depressants and convincing myself that they might be a good thing. The paradox is this, I am happy, but I am almost miserable because I am happy. I mean, is the human race truly hopeless? Am I, in particular, truly hopeless? It seems, that with my happiness per usual comes misery. I have been so accustomed to being in a depressed state that it got to the point of me thinking that's who I really was and now that I'm not there anymore, I miss it. In addition to missing it, part of me truly believes that I don't deserve happiness, self-sabotage is my hobby, and I'm quite exceptional at it. I'm really not sure at this point if I'm a lost cause, or this is a transition state, what I am sure of is that I feel comfortable stating these things on this site for whatever reason even though I'm new, so...if you're reading this, thank you, I may never know who you are, where you're from, or even if you read it, but thank you none-the-less.