Did you ever contemplate taking your life? What leads a person to commit suicide? Why do some people fall into a deep state of depression? Doctors and psychiatrists can only speculate the reasons to these questions from examining thousands of case studies. But how can a doctor or any person really know what goes on in someone's mind? Our minds aren't equal.
Doctors can diagnose cancer, and through scientific studies and research, provide a treatment to put it into remission. But our minds can't be examined in the same fashion as a disease. Our thoughts, with their underlying fears and motivators, are intricate and unique; therefore, not measurable.
If ten people were asked to describe the color red in an apple, I'm betting that each person's description would be a bit different. Perception is key, isn't it? But here's what got me thinking. What makes a person self destruct? Where does their wiring go wrong? Can we legitimately blame our parents for the way we feel?
I'm going to go out on a limb and say, no. I believe that we are subject to their habits and personalities, and as a result, can learn their behaviors, but there's more to it. The mechanics of what makes a person tick is multi-faceted; and why people fall into depression has a lot to do with feeling unfulfilled.
We've all heard the stories about Jim Morrison, Janice Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, and so many other famous artists and actors, who've overdosed on drugs at a very early age. Some of these people deliberately took their lives while others died accidentally.
Their successes, and the rush that accompanies it, was achieved so early in life that they felt the need to experience something that would take them higher. What does a person do to achieve this rush after they've exhausted all other possibilities? What do you do after you've had it all and done it all? How high can we go?
People, like you and me, try our best to make our lives better, yet millions of us suffer from deep depression. Some are battling an addiction, while others are feeling so useless that they want to die. They wake up, take a good look around, and ask the frightening question that has plaqued the greatest of minds since the beginning of humanity. They ask, is this all there is?
Now, I understand that everyone doesn't have these thoughts. We're not alike. But through reading and observing, it appears that deep thinkers and artists suffer more than the everyday person. Like these great minds, I too, have asked myself if this was all there was. Now, I'm not just saying the phrase "is this all there is" as a generic statement. I'm serious. For me, the feeling of being useless, and questioning my existence, pushed me into asking this very question.
I was unhappy with my life and felt that I didn't have anything to look forward to. I didn't have an interest in things. I was bored with the club scene. I was bored with hearing the talkers talk. I was bored with the game. When I examined what was left, I asked the question that I was afraid to get the answer to.
I felt that there had to be more than merely existing. There had to be more than acting robotically. There had to be more than what I was doing--getting up, going to work, acting out the part and not receiving the applauds.
It was during this period of my life when I relapsed into a disorder known as agoraphobia. All the questions that plagued me for years, the very same questions that I asked but was afraid to get the answers to, were surfacing to my conscience.
These questions made me think--they made me pick apart my life and curse my existence. I didn't want to face these questions because facing them meant facing the answers that went along with them.
Finally, out of desperation to rid myself of the disorder, I turned to the one thing that I didn't believe in, and that was God. I begged Him to show me my purpose. I begged Him to tell me if there was more to life than what I was experiencing? I had to know if there was more. And I found out that there is more. We can go higher if we look past the material things.
Follow me on this. Buying cars and boats, and jewels and vacations, only gives a temporary high. After they're gone, how do you get another rush? Most people keep buying. They buy bigger cars and boats, bigger houses and more jewels. If you have money, you keep buying. Finally, when you have obtained it all, what's next? Drugs? Gambling?
Listen. We can only go so high. The money can only give us so much gratification. When you've done it all, you have to find something else to give you that high, and drugs isn't the answer. But reaching out to others, is. When you have it all, it's time to start giving back. Helping people, in any capacity, is the way. It's the only way.
I was only a young girl when Peggy Lee shot to fame with her song, Is That All There Is, and now I understand why the song went big. Ask yourself . . . is this all there is?