I’m never going to be able to manage my own life.
I mean, god, I’m 26 years old. By now, I was meant to have finished undergrad and law school. I was meant to be a rising star, clerking with a judge or something. I should’ve gotten my shit together–maybe still in weekly therapy, but probably not even that. I should’ve been independent and financially stable. I should’ve been happy by now.
Instead what I have is (to borrow/butcher a phrase from Douglas Adams) something almost, but not quite entirely, unlike life.
Finishing my undergrad degree is a pie-in-the-sky dream, and let’s not even talk about law school. I am interning with an attorney, but it’s unpaid, and the case I’m currently working on revolves around whether the defendant could get a boner or not. (Seriously. We just use somewhat more polite language for it in court.) I fucked up my bank account again, SI I somehow have to survive the rest of the month on $37. I am 75% convinced my relationship with my therapist is unsalvageable. My family hates me and wishes they could get rid of me already. I’m in constant physical pain that nothing seems to help in the ling run. I’m functional enough to know that I’m not functional enough.
I just can’t help thinking I should get out while I’m ahead–or, at least, less behind. The campaign is over, and I accomplished what I set out to. No one needs me around anymore. Yeah, a few people might be sad for a while, but it wouldn’t ruin anybody’s life.
The weird thing is I’m not even all that depressed. I’m just so tired of life.