I haven’t been through a horrible life threatening situation, so why do I have survivor’s guilt?

Altho I guess it depends on what you qualify as a life-threatening situation. You could argue that the race was life-threatening, considering what we went thru during some of the crossings. But in this case it’s more that life seems to be a life threatening situation.

Mostly, why am I still alive when others have died?

I get it. That’s the way life is, it’s fucking random, and we have little control over it.

But, still, why me?

I’ve lost a couple of friends in the last few years who seem to have more purpose than I do. Friends with families, kids, people who are relying on them for support. My friend Rusty had a six year old daughter when he went. Ross had just got married. Laura had five children and was only a year older than me.

Fucking cancer.

But then, is that the purpose to life? To have a family, to have people who rely on you for support? Or just to be? To consume stuff? Because if that’s my purpose, I’m consuming wine by the bucketload in this lockdown. And whisky.

I have no answers really. I don’t know if I’m looking for any, to be honest. I don’t know if I want to know the answer. But I’ll keep maybe looking for it, and if I find it at the bottom of a bottle I’ll let you know…