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I'm 45 and all I've managed to do is accept the reality that I always have been and will continue to be counting days until oblivion gets here. The main difference between then and now is a half dozen pills a day and years of therapy so that I no longer desperately want to expedite the process.
Sorry to hear, that sounds rough. I dont know if youre feeling this way because of your job, given the topic of this thread... but if it means anything, I believe that someone's value is measured based on many other factors besides what they do for a living. Hope things look up.
I'm so sorry to hear that :(
I feel ya.
I'm lying here alone right now, in my noisy hovel of an apartment, scared shitless, trying to block out the sound and light, to sleep as wave after wave of sorrow washes over me. The pills really aren't working so well lately. Hooray for "the weekend."
For the first time in my life I'm considering substance abuse. The world mostly just disgusts me right now.