Why do humans continue to live without living or loving, but full of anxiety, until they die?

When you as a Life Artist see the whole of the battlefield of life, not as an image, but as something you are facing, and in fact are observing, then you ask yourself what it all is about.

Why do human beings continue in this way until they die, without living or loving, but full of fear and anxiety?

Albert Camus opens his book The Myth of Sisyphus, with saying, that there only exists one real philosophical question, and that is the question about the suicide.

Why do we not commit suicide in a meaningless world devoid of both faith in reason and faith in God?