Are the Bad Times Worth the Good Times?

If you suffer from suicidal thoughts or depression, I would ask you not to read this post.  It is neither encouraging nor uplifting, and I have enough on my conscience without worrying that I may have spoken the words that gave someone the courage or the will to make that last, bad choice.  Like Lord Henry Wotton, my desire to say bad things exceeds my desire to do them. 

Earlier in my life, I lived through some dark times.  I thought I had seen the worst that life had to offer, or close to it.  A few years ago, I learned that I was mistaken.  I went through a stretch of time that showed me how much darker life could be, and how much lower I could sink.  I was horrified by the experience. 

What disturbed me most was the depth of my ability to feel pain.  I felt then as I feel now that my capacity to experience suffering far, far outstrips my capacity to feel happiness, pleasure, or joy.  Ever since, I have worried that the disparity is so great that it is impossible to live a truly satisfying or fulfilling life.  I’m not certain that my experience can be generalized; I suspect that it can.  My guess is that most people would not choose to relive the worst year of their life in exchange for the opportunity to relive the best year.   

I survived the bad times, but the issue was in doubt for quite some time.  More than once, I felt that I could not last much longer.  So I can say, from my own experience, that the anti-suicide community is correct:  it gets better if you hold on.  But whether things will get better is not really the question.  The question is whether life will get better enough to make it worth the struggle, whether the opportunity to savor the good times justifies suffering through the bad times.  And on that question, I remain unconvinced.