What Happened?

I woke up so depressed this morning. Even though I've actually liked clinicals a lot more than I thought I would, I wish it was all over so I could establish my own life, work on making the schedule that's right for me, stop being everyone else's puppet. The truth is, I still wish I could stop punching a time clock. 

I'm worried about my son's situation. Things are not working out with his roommate. She is living there rent free but nonetheless has taken over the entire apartment. Her decorating scheme (early dorm room--posters everywhere) and no room for his things even in the kitchen. He's going to talk to her about it. He actually wants her to move out. I feel bad for her because every place she's been she's been asked to move out and now I'm starting to see why. She's not a bad person but she doesn't try at all. It isn't entirely her fault. But since he's paying all of the rent, she really should not feel such a sense of entitlement. This isn't a boyfriend-girlfriend situation, they are platonic friends. She's actually the girlfriend of one of my son's friends.

I miss having my son living with me part of the time but it was time that he stopped playing the child of divorced parents role. He's going to be 21 in a few weeks. Shuttling between his home here and his father's apartment was ridiculous. He likes having his own place. He keeps things reasonably clean (not a habit he learned from either his father or me, I'm embarrassed to say--it was more in spite of than because of us) and it's a good place in a decent neighborhood. It's good for catching buses to work or school, although I intend to help him with getting to school. It's a way that we can spend time together.

I'm still working on getting my dogs a new home. I am a good owner for cats but not for dogs. That's bumming me out too.

The other thing is painful is the realization that I will never be recognized for any of my artistic talents. All of my life, that is what I wanted to do is work in the arts. I know now that it can never happen and the dream must die. I'm too old and its too late. Thanks, mental illness. Thanks, societal prejudice. And thanks, me not believing in myself.

I wanted to cut myself so bad this morning. I didn't, but I really wanted to.

Youth is wasted on the young, by the way. The other thing that bothers me is realizing what a complete and utter fucking idiot I was when I was young. I really would love to go back in time and kick the living shit out of my ridiculous, unrealistic, pie in the sky but not willing/able to work on anything self. She was a self-centered, pathetic loser that expected fame and fortune and true love to drop out of the sky on her. Stupid, ignorant little bitch. I hate her.

I'm trying now. But I have these times when I wonder if anything will ever work out at all.