When I was a teenager, I had so much patience with my parents. This summer I had to leave their house for an afternoon so I wouldn't say the worst things I've ever thought in my life.
Monday, I was so close to dropping out of graduate school. Last night I signed up for another class.
I crashed at 4:30 PM, dragged myself out of bed at 7 PM, and am sitting on my sofa wearing no pants. The house is a mess.
I mean, I'm getting worse as I get older, failing at adulting harder. I know I need therapy, but I worry that there's something even more insidious going on beneath the surface.
Or is this just life? I am the most emotionally constipated person on the planet sometimes, so I may be missing something here...