Life's a bitch and then you die

So, here's the really amazing thing that I just figured out. All I've ever wanted to do with my life is help people. Get an education, make lots of money, give said money away. That was always the plan. Now, being a doctor was always at the head of that list. Get a medical degree, give free health care to people who can't afford it. Travel all over the world setting up hospitals and schools and making enough money to support it all. By being a doctor. The next best thing was a psychiatrist. Still a doctor, just a little bit different. Here are some other things I've wanted to be growing up-sociologist, social worker, journalist, teacher, politician, lawyer, author, actress/singer. Okay, now HERE'S the amazing part. For all of those jobs, except the last two, my mental illness, ANY mental illness, would have to be a secret. If I was a doctor, there's no way they'd let me practice while on medication for a mental illness. I've researched it, and there's not. Which is TOTAL bullshit because someone taking meds for high blood pressure, or diabetes, or asthma, or cancer, or even AIDS for christs sake would be cleared in a second! And I didn't ask for this anymore then they would ask for their illnesses! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. Why?? Why is this happening to me? GOD it just makes me so angry. And, I mean, lets be honest. What are the odds that I could really be a successful author or singer/actress????

The point is...if I can't do any of the things that I've always wanted to do, what's the point? Of living, I mean. What's the point?
I don't think there is one. But either way, where does that leave me? What am I to do now?

It's later then you think

For the last three years, it feels like time is standing still. It doesn't feel real. I don't feel real. And I'm not sure why. And it seems like the more I think about it, the deeper inside my head I go, the more confused I get. Somewhere along the line I realized that it wasn't time standing still, it was me; I just haven't figured out what to do about it yet.

I'm not a lazy, spoiled brat. I know some people think that I am, but I'm not. And who are they to judge anyway? I know most of them have good intentions, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. And that's where I feel like I am. The point is, there are things I should have done and didn't, things I shouldn't have done and did, but those are my mistakes, and I'm allowed to make them. This is frustrating, it's like I can't say what I really mean. Maybe the point is, unless you've been through everything I have, then you really don't understand. And if you don't understand, then don't pretend that you do by telling me what's right and what's wrong. I'll figure that out on my own.