Recently I turned 42, and even though I'm way too poor for a midlife crisis, I keep thinking back to the summer I turned 12, because that's when it seemed everything went wrong.
I keep having fantasies of going back in time and redoing everything the right way - if I only exercised more, read more, written more I would be happy now. If I had shown a little bit of courage, ever, I would be happy now.
I feel like my only accomplishment has been surviving nearly 30 years with OCD and possibly ADD. But that's not enough. I'm alone, which I don't mind, but I haven't ever done anything great with my time.
I don't want hugs, just understanding, and maybe you could do something nice for people you meet.