when we are diagnosed with a disease, maybe that's god's way of saying it's our time. when we are going to die "early" without treatment or transplant or intervention, maybe it really is our time. but then we screw up god's ultimate plan, and treat or transplant or intervene, and then we live on for years and years - years past the date of our destined death.
is that why i'm miserable? was i supposed to die at 3 years old? i developed diabetes, though no one knew it yet, and i nearly died. yes, everyone is happy that i'm still alive, and grateful to have me in their lives, etc., etc.  But ... did the doctors go against god's plan, and treat me so that i may live. why am i still here? why didn't i die? i feel as if i'm floating, empty, drifting. no basis. no purpose. no purpose because i was not meant to be here today. my story was not written past my fourth birthday. there is nothing for me. what kind of mess have i gotten myself into?
i've always had this feeling of not feeling alive, and not wanting to live. but it never rings true to the association to depression and suicide. i'm not depressed and i do not want to kill myself. i'm just empty, and i just don't want to be alive anymore.