Nothing is as it was supposed to be.
I’m about to turn thirty and I’m broke, miserable, and alone. I never married or had children. I do not own a home. I’m not successful professionally or financially.
I don’t have any friends–maybe one or two that I was never particularly good to. I have no one that I can call when I have good news. I have no one to call when I’m feeling blue, which is most days even though I have no reason to.
All those who were important to me were forgotten while I was putting all my time into things that don’t mean anything to me. I obsessed over my failures wasting effort on lost causes.
I was selfish enough to want to be the best but I was so lazy I never took any steps to get there. All the while I become proficient in many things but excellent at nothing.
I am overeducated and traveled well yet I lack knowledge and I am anything but worldly. I am obsessed with keeping score. I always have one eye on the clock and one foot out the door.
I am depressed with no good reason. I have hundreds of empty pill bottles to remind me that I’ve always been this way.
I make no effort to be healthy physically or mentally. I can’t remember the last time I actually tried to do anything.
I have no money but endless debt. I am addicted to buying bullshit I don’t need or want.
I drink too much but I’m not a drunk. I don’t have the discipline to commit to that lifestyle. I have a strange obsession with the romantic notion of being a junkie but I lack commitment.
Two weeks ago today I quit smoking cigarettes. It was the last thing I had that for a moment allowed me to escape. Days like today I sure miss cigarettes.