blahI never stop hoping for more. I started working in this career as a means to a misguided end. I persist now and the end is chiefly subsistence. This isn't who i wanted to be, the life that i saw. It's not that i need some fantasy world of love and adventure - i know there are bills and chores and responsibilities, but i'm just not ready to accept that that's all there is. I can't be happy with that.
Doctors don't really encourage me to dream. They don't see me that way. What drives me nuts is i see friends following their hearts, pursuing their passions, even with a job on the side. Why can't i do that? Why do i feel so fucking paralyzed? It's been this way over 10 years now. The specialists say well you have other concerns now, other priorities - and that's true - but i don't see the part where that has to eclipse everything else, everything good. I feel like the me people see today is so very far from the me i once was, the me i feel i still am, trapped somewhere inside. I got lost in the cracks of my mind.
There's nothing worse than someone looking at you and saying hey you're a success story, you have a house, you have a job, you have a partner, you're not committed or incarcerated or dead. Yeah yay fucking me. I'm still not happy. I'm still not home.
