What Am I Missing?

 My entire adult life has resulted from an extreme lack of purpose. I have no idea what I want to do, or what I'm meant to do, or what I should be doing in the meantime. I have bursts of interest that last about two weeks and peeter out. I can mimic just about any skill the first time I try it, but I am never able to replicate it. 

So I should have a vlog like Dirty Jobs for crafters? Sounds exhausting. 

Every day I fail to live up to my potential. I am over-qualified for life, yet I have no passion for anything, not even killing myself to get off this hamster wheel. 

The generic "glorify God" does not inspire me. "Random acts of kindness" do not help me sleep through the night. I haven't felt the urge to resolve anything in 22 years. 

I just keep wishing it was over. Or that I could find something to do that made me feel like I was doing something worth doing for the last 47 years of my life. But nothing presents itself and I continue to wake up earlier and earlier (before 2 AM this morning) dissatisfied with everything, myself most of all. I don't even get eight hours of unconsciousness to break the tedium that is my thought process. 

The night sweats are returning. The Provitalize probiotic may not be the reason I had a good three weeks. That could have been some leftover estrogen squeezed out of my dying ovaries. 

HRT is definitely on the table. I've spent the last ten years fighting hormones in peri-menopause. I can't spend the next thirty fighting all the things that come from no hormones. 

I do wish it was over. I hate the way my life is now. I hate what's coming. I hate how completely I've failed to do anything useful with the past 50 years. I hate how one year after determining to make changes I still have no good plans for how to spend the next 50 years. I hate how resigned I am to living badly and alone. I wish I could sleep. 

I hope someone out there is happy. Someone other than Satan, anyway. 

Keep the faith.