First, because this is my personality that we’re dealing with, let me say that the question is worded atrociously and should be instead: When does life seem not worth living?
Second, answering the question. Life isn’t worth living when I feel like a failure at absolutely everything. When I let the girls watch too much TV and I don’t get any laundry done and I have no idea what I’m serving for dinner (Or worse, when I think I’ll have to serve rice and soy sauce again because I didn’t get to the grocery store for meat or cheese) and there are all those calls I was supposed to make but didn’t and the carpet looks like it should have been vacuumed or else set ablaze two days ago — Then I feel the most depressed. I don’t feel like killing myself because that would be decisive and I’m certainly not decisive. But I do feel like a perfect waste of intricately organized proteins.
But then there is that to feel good about: I’m nutritious!
Now let me try to analyze some of that.
Life is not worth living when I think everything is going to shit; when I think that a better person would not have let everything go to shit; when what I have done is nowhere near the best I could have done or else the best I could do was still short of what was needed.
When does life seem not worth living? When I don’t seem worth living it. When I, through failure, don’t seem worth living it.
Feeling defensive now. First, my girls always get more time with daddy than time with TV. Isn’t the problem with kids watching too much TV normally that they spend time with TV instead of time with their parents?
Second, laundry doesn’t need to be done everyday.
Third, more than 50% of worldwide humanity’s calories come from rice. What’s so wrong about me serving it as a main course instead of as only a side dish?
This update has been a reasoned response to the emotional honesty in my original post.