When I stopped taking life seriously

There was a time in which I took life seriously. It all started with my parents divorce (here we go). I decided "okay Sarah, you have a lawyer now, time to take life extremely seriously", (I was 10). So I did what every 10 year old serious kid does: buy a notebook. I recorded my thoughts, things I was angry about mostly and reasons why I hated my dad, you know, the usual. 

Ever since then until about age 16 I took life like it was the most serious thing to ever be. Life was the fucking shit. Life was good. I found my peace, I chose my destiny: "I'll be a psychologist", she said. Psychology was my bitch, I desired jewelry with the psychology symbol, I looked into schools during midnight on one new years, sitting at home, sipping on water, probably. 

Then what happened? Philosophy happened, questioning life happened. Once I started questioning things I couldn't stop. I realized there was no god, firstly. So then what is life's purpose? What is it? 

I got into a deep depression, which I am still partially in, but it was different. I decided to sabotage my life. I decided to study this "philosophy" in which I was so fascinated. But all I did was get more inspired, after briefly going through a period of suicidal thoughts and alcoholism, like all good philosophers, right?

I came up with theories, ideas, and I think the most correct word I could use to describe what I thought was "justifications". Things to justify living, things to justify creating a life around myself. 

I came to a new justification that I'll just try to be happy.

I came to a new justification that my life goal is to make my love happy. 

Things just kept changing I just kept justifying and finally... FINALLY I have come up with a new way of coping with my nihilistic tendencies.

Since I have yet to find a true meaning in life, other than to find happiness, what I have vowed to do in order to both adhere to my true beliefs as well as make the ones I love happy and to somewhat follow the good parts of society's structure, I will not kill myself. I never attempted suicide, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. 

But since I do not believe there is anything after death, might as well exist, right? 

That's still not my new justification. 

Here is my new promise:

If I hate myself, my life, the things around me so much that I am standing on the edge of self-induced death, I will end my life. Not my biological/physical life, my social/psychological life. I will end my my studies, my place of living, my job, and move on. I will pick a place, go find a new life, a new meaning, I will keep my name, my lessons and my family and people I love, (unless these are the causes of my suicidal tendencies) but change what I do in my day. Because it seems most obvious to me that the cause of my death should not be myself. Since this is my only experience, if  I am not happy, I should at least not be on the verge of suicide. 

Anyways. That was my weird rant for the night. I'm sure I'm crazy, but the psychiatrists keep saying I'm not. Oh well. 

I love you all, talk to you soon (whoever you all are),

Sarah