I just want to vent, don't know where else to do it. I'm not mad, but I couldn't find a why are you concerned about the state of your mental health thread. Let's see if I even post once I'm done writing Feeling good isn't worth feeling bad, for me. The way that I experience feeling bad is many degrees more extreme than the way that I experience happiness. Idk, maybe that's normal for everyone? But the difference is that to me, the values don't match in the end, not even close. The positive value of feeling good isn't even remotely near the negative value of feeling bad, and I feel like through this I've built up some kind of deficit. My life is objectively super good. I have my own apartment in a cool neighborhood, I'm happily married, I have a good relationship with my friends and family, and I basically do whatever I want whenever I want. I'm employed making salary+benefits. My parents and inlaws help a little with finances so that my wife and I are able to live slightly above our actual means. I should be a happier person. I understand that happiness is a choice, but even when I choose to be happy about the good things in life, the moment that there's a bad thing all good things are instantly crushed. My immediate response to every bad thing, no matter how small, is that it'd be better to be dead. I wouldn't have to deal with the bad things if I were dead. I wouldn't have to wake up, I wouldn't have to do anything at all, not even think. I wouldn't miss those good things that I can barely bring myself to notice. I get caught in this track of thinking, and it only seems more and more appealing. Actually, the only downside I can think of is the negative effect it would have on my loved ones. But obviously I wouldn't even have the capacity to know about those negative effects if I were dead, thus they're not really a problem. I feel like I'm practically talking myself into it... but really, I'm making a pretty excellent sales pitch--at least to me. I always think it on bad days, but recently I even think it on good days, which is confusing to me. I don't want to see a therapist because A) I think they'd tell me to take pills B) time money effort C) I don't have the balls to ever actually actually off myself, so I'm not really worried about it. I know that this might sound crazy to some of you, but somehow I think that a huge source of the stress and anxiety that permeates all areas of my life comes from driving in rush hour. It makes me so upset every day that as soon as I walk in the door the only thing I want is to intoxicate myself to take my brain off the hook, and I usually can't even enjoy my dinner because I'm thinking about cars. I can't focus on anything my wife says. I'm trying desperately to look at the TV so that I can turn it (my head) off. But I am I just blaming rush hour? Is it just a scapegoat? I can't know. I wonder if I could be happy if I just flipped burgers at the Charcoal Delight 2 blocks from my place. But I'll never find out, because I could never let myself risk the financial instability. Also it seems likely that I'm only fooling myself--it's just another grass is greener on the other side. Even if my job was different, even if it were 'perfect for me' despite that I have no idea what that is, I'm not sure that I truly believe that could help the way that I grossly overreact (internally or otherwise) to bad anything. If I could have any life I wanted, any life at all, I think I'd just marathon TNG and then jump off a building Is it the result of having things too easy?