Post by RoseNadler on Apr 29, 2019 10:13:33 GMT -8
“Jealousy” is too strong a word for what I feel, but out of the options here, it’s the closest.
What I’m doing right now is comparing my life to the lives of other people, and feeling bad.
I have two sets of bad feelings. One set is inferiority. Because I haven’t had a very successful career, and my marriage didn’t work out, and I never had children, I feel inferior to people who have done these things. I’m so bad at life that I couldn’t even manage to do these things that almost everybody does.
The other set of bad feelings is self-pity. Why do other people get lucky breaks and I don’t? Why couldn’t I meet the right man for me when I was young? Why couldn’t I be one of those people who have a talent to do something, and a burning passion to do that, and go roaring through a great career?
Then I go back to feeling inferior and beating myself up. I’ve met SO many men in my lifetime. I’ve had several men be seriously in love with me. What if one of them was the man I could have married and had children with, and I messed it up because I was so addicted and mentally messed up?
(However, I think there may still be hope for me to have a decent love life. I met L 17 years ago....we’ve gone through a lot together...and we recently agreed to try our relationship again. I’m hoping this works.)
And then, the career thing. I’ve never been good at any of the things that have a lot of jobs where you can make a lot of money. I’m not good at STEM stuff and I’m not good at business. My best subjects in school were English, foreign languages, history, sociology, psychology...that kind of thing. But I felt pressured to major in something practical - I chose journalism over English. Now I look back and I see that I never really wanted to be a journalist. If I could rewind back in time, I’d major in one of those things I really liked and was good at, and then become either a teacher or a librarian.
Of course, it’s too late for that. I’m 55 years old and closer to the end of my working life than to my beginning. If I can hang in there for 12 more years, I can retire; and then I’ll have time to pursue other interests. But I do envy the people who found what they loved and were good at early in life - and who followed that path.
What I’m doing right now is comparing my life to the lives of other people, and feeling bad.
I have two sets of bad feelings. One set is inferiority. Because I haven’t had a very successful career, and my marriage didn’t work out, and I never had children, I feel inferior to people who have done these things. I’m so bad at life that I couldn’t even manage to do these things that almost everybody does.
The other set of bad feelings is self-pity. Why do other people get lucky breaks and I don’t? Why couldn’t I meet the right man for me when I was young? Why couldn’t I be one of those people who have a talent to do something, and a burning passion to do that, and go roaring through a great career?
Then I go back to feeling inferior and beating myself up. I’ve met SO many men in my lifetime. I’ve had several men be seriously in love with me. What if one of them was the man I could have married and had children with, and I messed it up because I was so addicted and mentally messed up?
(However, I think there may still be hope for me to have a decent love life. I met L 17 years ago....we’ve gone through a lot together...and we recently agreed to try our relationship again. I’m hoping this works.)
And then, the career thing. I’ve never been good at any of the things that have a lot of jobs where you can make a lot of money. I’m not good at STEM stuff and I’m not good at business. My best subjects in school were English, foreign languages, history, sociology, psychology...that kind of thing. But I felt pressured to major in something practical - I chose journalism over English. Now I look back and I see that I never really wanted to be a journalist. If I could rewind back in time, I’d major in one of those things I really liked and was good at, and then become either a teacher or a librarian.
Of course, it’s too late for that. I’m 55 years old and closer to the end of my working life than to my beginning. If I can hang in there for 12 more years, I can retire; and then I’ll have time to pursue other interests. But I do envy the people who found what they loved and were good at early in life - and who followed that path.
