where's my pot of gold?

Yes. It's moments like this when I want to write a guide book on manufacturing depression. I think I'm the best person to write such kinds of things. I mean, really, most of the things that let me down are done by myself; even the things that limit what I can do are practically self-imposed. It's all about a story I crafted for myself. It limits me to explore things beyond that may guarantee happiness. It's frustrating and I can't get out of it. I'll die sad and regret my twenty-something years for the rest of my life. I think I mean that. But I'm okay with everything- I mean "okay" in the sense that I've accepted certain limitations and be grateful for the beautiful people in my life. I feel thankful but I feel sorry for myself from time to time- which is stupid I know, but there's really inescapable prisons. Yes brothers, I think this is on an existential level, not on roles or identities to assume.

My God, I feel so fake- I mean, after all that near fanaticism. The story is supposed to be a happy ending. Months ago, I was so convinced that this will lead me to something I've been longing for. But bumps on the road pointed somewhere else. And now, major things are happening, pointing me to that somewhere else. Yes, I thought maybe it just means that I'm lacking that fire I had, but doesn't this weakening zeal mean something? This is where all those sad thoughts come from- dwindling on the road to my story's end and not seeing any hint of that pot of gold. Then I begin doubting myself.

Nobody pointed me here, I swear. I know I want this, but things seem to say otherwise. Maybe it's only the idea of myself in this story that I want and not the actual things that I do or may do? Or maybe it's the things that I may miss in pursuing this story that make me dwindle and doubt myself. Do I really want this? I earnestly pray for that moment when all things are clear and I know what I really really want and know I can do it. I'm not having that kind of clarity and blessing for some time now.