The more things change...

So, it's 1:36 a.m. and I'm lying in bed, wide awake, as per usual, wondering if I am ever destined to escape from the ever-present black cloud above me. It seems impossible that one could be fated to be miserable and hopeless throughout one's entire life, yet here I lie, in the midst of just that situation, for 38 years and counting. Do I realize that other people have crosses to bear? Certainly, I do. Are there other folks in the world who would give their right arm for the basic necessities I currently possess, like a warm bed and a roof, under which, to lie? Of course, I am aware. But sometimes, oftentimes, most times, that is cold comfort. I do not love myself. Hell, I can't even tolerate, let alone like myself, most of the time. The great irony, however, is that I know I am a good person. I try, I really do, to be kind to others. I am loyal and a caring friend to the few true friends I have. I avoid being hurtful or damaging to others if I can possibly help it. Yet despite his, I dwell, more often than not, in a misery that knows no bounds and is seemingly without end and I have no idea why. Is this my fate, to seek happiness and find my search thwarted at every turn? Will I ever find myself not only worthy of joy but actually in it?