Confusion over what is worthy of meaning to me

Throughout the history of being me I have assigned meaning to many things that were based in an unreality/a deception. Consequently, I suffer a great amount of uncertainty when trying to now assign meaning to anything.

This is another required class so to speak, in my endeavor to be rid, and finely shake that haunting, omnipresent shadow of a black dog...I have so many lessons. So much work. I've finally realize I have to learn to accept this personality disorder as something I have to submit to and adjust my life accordingly.

This is my current delusion...

The experience of my existence has been so overly fraught with grief and unhappiness that it is to the point to where I wish the entire Empire State Building would collapse singularily on me. And because of this pervasive attitude I seem to very very wary of the way I spend my time. To suffer through anything less than great moments and peak experience is a waste of time for me. Therefore being that these type experience are very rare... most of the time I am miserable.