Making progress?

It was about five years ago that, having hit rock bottom, I somehow found my way out of a life spent largely in bed, unable to function in any kind of meaningful way.
I made the comment to my friend the other day that I wasn't sure why I bothered. One innocent statement several weeks ago sent me into a tailspin. It wasn't meant to be hurtful, but it was something that made me start to take stock of my life. That took about three minutes. It made me realize just how much of a NON-impact I have on even the small corner of the world I inhabit. And yes, it's depressing. I have many acquaintances. I have very few real friends. I don't have a career, I have a job. I have a nice home, though people are quick to point out it's in an undesirable location. When I suggest my life has no purpose, the only thing people come back with is the weight loss. Hey, I'm proud of myself in that regard, but if my life's worth is summed up the fact that I'm less fat than I used to be, it pretty much proves most of my life has been a giant waste.

Back home there were three of us in our office who had the same birthday. Well, three that became friends. Julieanne, Elison and me. Elison passed away a few years ago from breast cancer. So when birthday time rolls around I think about her. And this year I have asked myself "why Elison? Why not me?" Elison had a family. Sons who needed her and loved her. She had an impact on lives. I don't. Why am I still here, not making any difference in the lives of anybody, and she's gone? It's a tough question to answer for myself.

Tomorrow is Elison's birthday. If you read this, please wear something pink for her.