Talk about the meaning of living?

I got a serious illness this year, which lasted for several months. I have many symptoms, I am under great mental pressure, and I have suicidal thoughts every day. Because at that time, there was no other way to escape the pain except to free yourself.

I have postpartum depression. Now the situation is basically under control.

When I had symptoms of dying, I called my father, hoping to scatter my ashes around the old house where I was born and raised. The place I want to go most is my carefree childhood. . . . I want to go back. But I can't go back. In my dreams, I always walk on my way home. . . . I am the only one left in the world.

I survived because my parents were alive, and I failed to do my duty to my parents. I am their supporter.

And my son, still in infancy, needs feeding. . . He needs my patient training.

And my husband, who is very kind to me, I want to take care of him for longer. . . .

They all love me and need me. So I can't leave.

I can't look after myself.

The purpose of living is to love.

No matter what the question is, all the answers are "love"!