- Dr George John
“Why me?” – a question so short, so desperate, so haunting – that it reverberates through hospital corridors, quiet prayer rooms, and even in the privacy of one’s sleepless nights.
It is the question that arises unbidden when catastrophe strikes, when a child is born with a disorder, when a loved one is taken too soon, when health fails, or when life seems absurdly unfair. This question is not merely rhetorical; it is existential. It is the ache of a soul trying to make sense of suffering and to retrieve some meaning from the brokenness of life.
As a retired Psychiatrist and the husband of my wife, now in the late stages of Parkinson’s Disease – a long, cruel, and humbling journey – I have come to see that the question “Why me?” lies at the very heart of the human condition. And it demands an answer – not necessarily a final one, but a wise one, and a compassionate one.
The Philosophical Terrain: Absurdity or Meaning?
Philosophers from antiquity to the present have grappled with the concept of suffering. Epicurus dismissed divine intervention by arguing that a benevolent, all-powerful God would not allow evil. Dostoevsky’s Ivan Karamazov rejected any heaven that required the suffering of a child. Albert Camus declared the universe “absurd” and postulated that the only true philosophical question was whether life was worth living.
![]()
In time, many find the question “Why me?” transforms into something deeper. It becomes: “What can I do with this?” or “What have I become because of this?”. In the words of Rainer Maria Rilke: “Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your hearts… Live the question now”. Grief matures. Suffering ripens the soul. Even bitterness, when acknowledged and not suppressed, can be composted into wisdom. There is no glory in pain. But there can be grace in response.
![]()
Yet, Camus also offered a compelling metaphor in The Myth of Sisyphus: the man condemned to roll a boulder up a hill all day, only for it to fall again. Camus suggests we must imagine Sisyphus to be happy, not because he finds joy in the burden, but because he owns it: “His fate belongs to him”, writes Camus. In the end, perhaps the meaning of “Why me?” is not found in the answer but in our response. To suffer is to live. One of the fundamental definitions of consciousness is the ability to experience suffering.
The Psychological Dimensions: Suffering and Self
From a psychological perspective, the question “Why me?” emerges when the mind confronts the limits of control. It’s often accompanied by grief, denial, anger, guilt, or helplessness, too. Psychiatrist Viktor Frankl, a survivor of Auschwitz, argued that human beings are not destroyed by suffering so long as they can find meaning in it. In his words: “Those who have a why to live, can bear it almost any how”.
Suffering changes identity. We mourn not only what we have lost but who we used to be. In chronic illnesses, such as Parkinson’s Disease, the patient is not the only sufferer; the caregiver too walks a parallel path of invisible distress, often bearing it alone. The “Why me?” for the patient becomes “Why us?” for the family. The burden becomes collective, and so must the healing.
Neuroscience has shown that prolonged stress and grief alter the structure of the brain. The hippocampus shrinks. Memory weakens. But something else can grow in its place: resilience, forged not in comfort but in compassion. The mind adapts. The spirit, if tended to, matures.
Theological Reflections: Mystery, Faith, and the Hidden God
For people of faith, “Why me?” is directed not to the void, but to God. The psalmist cries out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” – words later echoed by Jesus on the cross. In the Christian tradition, this cry is not blasphemous; it is a sacred expression. Doubt is not the opposite of faith but a vital part of it.
Faith traditions respond to suffering not with logic but with presence. In the Book of Job, God does not explain Job’s suffering but answers with awe: “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?”. God’s reply is not cruel; it is a reminder that divine wisdom exceeds human comprehension. The Hebrew phrase ‘hester panim’ (the hiding of God’s face) captures this poignantly – God is present even when hidden.
![]()
In the end, perhaps we ask, “Why me?” not to find an answer, but to hear the whisper of another voice that says, “Me too”. It is that solidarity between patients and carers, between those who suffer and those who stay – that we find the beginnings of healing.
![]()
In Buddhism, the First Noble Truth begins with suffering (dukkha). But suffering is not seen as punishment; it is a condition of existence. Liberation comes not through avoiding pain, but through mindful awareness and compassionate detachment. In Islam, the concept of sabr (patient endurance) and in Hinduism, the doctrine of karma, misunderstood as fate, but more accurately, a chain of consequences, serve to soften the edges of suffering through spiritual perspective.
Perhaps, then, the theological answer to “Why me?” is that you are not alone. Because suffering connects us to the divine, not away from it.
A Personal Encounter: Parkinson’s, Pneumonia, and Perseverance
In recent weeks, my wife, my beloved companion for 53 years, suffered a life-threatening episode of aspiration pneumonia on top of her long-standing Parkinson’s Disease. We are now at home, surrounded by love, care, and the quiet determination of round-the-clock rehabilitation.
I do not know why this has befallen her. But I have learned to shift the question from “Why me?” to “What now?” and “How shall we love each other through this?”
Each morning begins not with answers, but with small acts of grace – a smile, a massage, a whispered joke that only she and I can understand. It is in these gestures that I find meaning. Life is no longer measured by ambitions, but by the quiet dignity of presence.
The Evolutionary Angle: Why Suffering Exists at All
From an evolutionary standpoint, pain and suffering have a survival value. Pain alerts us to danger; emotional distress prompts social cohesion. The question “Why me?” may even be adaptive – it pushes the mind towards reflection, problem-solving, or search for connection. We do not ask “Why me?” in joy – we ask it in pain. Because pain forces us to notice.
Yet, evolution cannot explain all suffering, especially the kind that seems utterly meaningless, like the suffering of a child or a degenerative illness that strips away identity. For that, we must turn to metaphysical and moral frameworks, or else risk reducing human beings to biological machinery.
Transcending the question from Why to What
In time, many find the question “Why me?” transforms into something deeper. It becomes: “What can I do with this?” or “What have I become because of this?”. In the words of Rainer Maria Rilke: “Be patient towards all that is unsolved in your hearts… Live the question now”.
Grief matures. Suffering ripens the soul. Even bitterness, when acknowledged and not suppressed, can be composted into wisdom.
There is no glory in pain. But there can be grace in response.
To Bear, To Be, To Belong
The journey from “Why me?” to a fuller, more courageous life is not straight or guaranteed. It is a path walked slowly, through shadows and uncertainty. Bit is also a path walked by all who dare to remain human in an often inhuman world.
In the end, perhaps we ask, “Why me?” not to find an answer, but to hear the whisper of another voice that says, “Me too”. It is that solidarity between patients and carers, between those who suffer and those who stay – that we find the beginnings of healing.
The theologian Paul Tillich once said, “The first duty of love is to listen.” And so we listen to each other, to silence, to the mystery. And from that listening may arise not answers, but something far more enduring: meaning.
And meaning once found is enough.
- Dr. George John is a retired British Emeritus Consultant Psychiatrist from London, formerly in private practice in London and the southeast of England, now living in Kochi, India. His special interests include interpersonal conflict, Human Flourishing and the Philosophy of Psychiatry.
docgjohn@aol.com



