I've battled depression for years. Low self esteem and depression, really. A long, fun road it's been (insert sarcastic, bitch voice here).
One advantage of this is that you never don't realize your dreams. Because you don't know what they are. A disadvantage of this is that you are constantly comparing, constantly trying to figure out why you can't figure it out.
You know those people that are people persons, or math whizzes, or political science geniuses...yeah, I'm not any of those. So there isn't some perfect fit for me. I feel like I'm not good at much, and what I am good at isn't worth any attention.
When you get to be 30 something.....fine, almost 40, make a girl tell the truth......and you have no fucking clue, it's almost embarrassing. Why can't I figure it out? What's wrong with me?
The few things I enjoy doing, I'm really not that good at. It's true...I tell you, it's true. Wife and mom, I love being those. House cleaning, I can't stand. Cooking, I like. Put me outside the house, what am I? Who am I? Confused and overwhelmed.
This message will self destruct in five minutes, as I'm PMS'ing.
