In essence, in living, all is but a series of repeated, hopefully prolonged attempts at true happiness. What is found once the effort to remain happy stops is individual. Possibly peace, not having to work at mortal contentedness in whatever afterlife is imagined for oneself. Imagination is powerful. ("Imagining the future is a type of nostalgia"-- quoth the Young, Alaska. A diversion from this labyrinth of suffering.) A powerful defense against reality--however big or small the details-- and also a powerful method of accomplishing things, or starting to accomplish things. Yet, in stopping one's own happiness the soul essentially dies. What good are we shells of people without souls, minds, hearts? A symbolic suicide.
And also yet, this is something we ourselves needn't worry about. We are invincible in spirit--in parts and as whole. Let us live to enjoy this living.