There's a term in baseball called playing under protest. What happens is that a rule is incorrectly applied and the manager of a baseball team protests. If the officials do not side with him, then the team formally protests, but the game continues. They are playing under protest. And the League office will review the game afterwards, and provide an ultimate judgment.
My life has been one long game under protest. When I was younger, I had planned to kill myself. That was the plan. But instead, I was called, By God Himself. Most people wait lifetimes for such a calling. However, I was disappointed. I did not want to live any longer. I didn't want to continue on the path that I was going. Instead, I would push forward, sent on a mission that I didn't ask for.
If I had to play, then I would be a doctor. I was asked to care for the people of this world, and I would do that through medical science. That was my calling. I worked hard for it. I got my MD. And I am still playing this game of life, achieving all kinds of notable things, doing all kinds of good works. I have provided lifesaving care to the sick, I have held the hands of the dying, comforted those in sorrow, and fought against injustice and inequity in the medical system. I have used my office to care for these corporeal vessels, gifts to us from God, and I have done so without judgment, indignation, or evangelization. I have done good things for this world in my life.
But I didn't want to live, and so far, I have yet to find a reason to continue living. Oh, I'm not depressed, and I'm not going to kill myself now. But I find no value, meaning, or satisfaction in my life itself. I love my work. My work is valuable and meaningful, and I am exceptionally good at it, but it is the task that was demanded of me. So, I continue under protest, hoping that at the end of this, I might get an apology or at least an acknowledgment that my protest had merit.