I don't think there's any point to my life. I am one of billions of humans that have existed during the lifespan of this earth, and I am not special in any way. A few years after my death, I won't be talked about or remembered.
My life isn't anything special. I'm not popular, I don't even own a home and I have to deal with a relative's addiction.
However! I am happy. I enjoy the simple fact being alive. I hold on tight to my small circle of loved ones, and try to spend as much time as possible doing nice things with them. Or simply chatting shit on the phone.
I read a lot of history. I'm really, honestly grateful to have running water, a boiler and a fridge full of food.
Every day, I enjoy what my senses serve me. I love my morning coffee walk, looking at the trees changing and saying hello to people. I get dressed up each morning, because why not. I try to cook something delicious every day. I like doing the washing up and joking around with my partner.
I am self-employed doing something I like, so maybe that helps. And maybe I have a really good chemical balance in my brain? I do eat, sleep and exercise well, and rarely drink. My addict relative, mentioned above, is deeply unhappy and has no gratitude for anything. I guess her perception of the world is very different to mine.