I'm in therapy. I have shelter and food. I have people who love me. I'm constantly improving in every way. I jog, I get fresh air. But I still always see existence as a cold unrelenting force that I'm obligated to take part in. Karmic debt doesn't exist. You can be the most pure person and experience the worst life has to offer. You can be a terrible person and be perfectly happy until you peacefully pass naturally. And no matter how much life has put you through, there's no mercy. You can't scream 'uncle' and make it all go away. No matter how terrible your life is or how much you've been through, there's nothing stopping existence from potentially getting even worse. My life is pretty good all things considered, but nothing has changed my fundamental aversion to bring alive. I've made so many posts on this sub relating to context sensitive moments in my life, and despite my ever changing circumstances I always end up back here. It manifests in different aspects of my life, like my relationships to others and how I react to change... And it becomes easy to blame those individual things for my sadness. But I'm starting to realize those manifestations are deceiving and the main problem behind all of it is this: I hate being alive. 

I need help, and I've searched for it. But the help I receive feels meaningless to the end of rewiring my brain to desire life. A desire of which the possibility of attaining seems increasingly fleeting. I don't know how much longer I can do this.