Dear Prudence,
I’ve had a rough last couple of years. I’ve been struggling with depression and anxiety for most of my adult life, but (as was the case for so many others) the pandemic made everything much worse, as did some other challenges I’ve experienced since then. Now I’m in my 30s and feel like I’ve accomplished nothing of value in my life. I’m starting to try to put things back together, but I still have times where I feel like a useless waste of space (due to my difficulties in getting a job and general executive dysfunction making it hard to get things done in a timely manner).
Here’s the part that complicates things. About five years ago, a family friend I’ll call “Ella” (someone I’d known for 20-plus years) needed a liver transplant after her own liver failed due to aggressive cancer treatment. She knew she wouldn’t get to the top of the transplant list so she posted a public ask on social media. I was a blood type match and considered submitting myself for testing, but ultimately decided not to; I had a series of complicated reasons (medical and logistical) I used to justify it, but ultimately, I was just scared and didn’t want to. The friend never received a liver transplant and passed away last year.
In the years since this, this decision has been one I’ve looked back on less than fondly. I know this isn’t rational, but I sometimes imagine a world where I did do it and think that maybe in that alternate reality, I would be in better shape because no matter what, I’d know that I did one amazing thing in my life. On very bad days, I’ve even had the thought cross my mind that maybe all the bad things I’ve endured since then are some kind of karmic punishment for not saving a life when I could have. I feel like I can’t tell anyone about this because they wouldn’t understand (and because most of the people I would even consider telling were friends with Ella, and I don’t feel comfortable involving them in this for that reason), and I struggle to trust therapists due to some previous bad experiences. How do I move past this and stop playing the “what if” game?
—Liv(er)ing With The Question