Today I had an appointment with Counselor on campus. I was hanging out with a friend of mine prior to it and she wanted to know why I was leaving, so I told her. She asked, "Why do you need a counselor? Are you...?" and she made the cuckoo motion around her head. I told her that I have only gone a few times; a couple of my academic advisors suggested I try it after my father's accident. She asked if it helps, and I told her that it does in a way because Counselor helps me make connections and understand certain things.
Case in point: Lately I have been telling Counselor about my obsession with death and religion and all that. Today she told me that I seem to be frustrated with my humanity. I said, "Yeah, and everyone else's, because I can't even ask someone else!" That's one of the things that gets to me. No matter how much I search, I will never get any closer to that elusive fiend called truth. I feel like the guy in Ecclesiastes: "Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the Teacher. "Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless" (1:2). What's the point of trying to figure it out? Anything anyone says about God or the cosmic question is and always will be mere speculation.