Energizer

What keeps us going? For some people, such a question might seem ridiculous; they appear to keep going because they like it. Others probably never have considered an alternative; they just keep going because, well, what the hell else are they going to do?
Some people don't necessarily like life, per se, but they carve out enjoyable pockets, activities to which they can look forward, like drinking or smoking marijuana or jumping out of airplanes or driving race cars or having sex. Those people's normal lives appear to represent a holding pattern, occupying the gray areas between when their lives take on color. That holding-pattern time, however, for many people lasts much longer than the colorful slivers, which fade too quickly. Sex, for example, can vary in its intensity and duration but generally speaking doesn't last as long as, say, a normal workday. Jumping out of airplanes attracts adventurous spirits, as does bungee jumping, but they're fleeting adrenalin rushes. My dog has taken a piss that has taken longer than falling off a bridge connected to a springy cord.
I guess porn stars or NASCAR drivers make a living out of doing what thrills them, but I bet longevity dilutes those thrills and turns them into gray areas. Booze and pills help, but overindulgence induces an eventual reckoning; they often leave an unpleasant residual effect. Unless we could have pills that help us to perceive the gray areas differently from how we might normally. Oh, yeah, the drug makers are trying.
Other people appear to permanently occupy their own, more ordinary gray areas, and some contentedly so. We have vacations, but the knowledge that we must return to the gray for way longer than vacation lasts tempers the satisfaction. A week at the beach doesn't quite mitigate the months of work required to get there.
For others, the gray areas are more like black and making daily peace with the world presents more of a challenge. The people who populate, and tolerate, the gray areas, tend to have difficulty relating to those who take up residence in the black areas. So, too, do those who live in the rosy neighborhoods. I don't trust them. The rosy people obviously keep going because life is grand. The gray-area people compartmentalize or accept or figure there's nothing better or like their lots in life. I can't relate to them.
So, back to those of us who don't want to brush their teeth or shave, let alone clean the bathroom. Some part of me always has clung to the notion that I will find something satisfying enough to persuade me that everything has been worthwhile, that it really has been a wonderful life, that I'll be able to stop saying I still haven't found what I'm looking for. I'm competitive, too, so if life represents a game and poses a challenge, like continuing to live, I don't want to lose.
Does love keep us going? Certainly, for some, love for and from their children provides sustenance. Then again, some people with children kill themselves. Love of self seemingly sustains some, as does spousal affection. Longtime spouses sometimes follow the death of their significant others by dying themselves.
Some people endure life because of the promise held by the afterlife. Long-suffering Catholics bear their burdens secure in the belief that Heaven awaits. They proudly forsake earthly pleasures. Dogma promotes misery.
Maybe this holds some answers, but I think it's largely bullshit:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/28/magazine/28depression-t.html?em
The article doesn't seem to account for those people for whom depression cripples, instead of clarifies and focuses effort.