Introduction: Part 2 (I know, not the most original title)

So, let's see, when I left off I was in college and now an English major.

That didn't work out for too long, and my idea of getting a certificate in communications wasn't working out so good either. I was losing interest in it. I tend to lose interest in things and move on to something else. Usually I start a project and then fail to finish it, which apparently has been a pattern my whole life. The amazing part, and what I fail to understand, is that I was under the care of a therapist and psychiatrist. I was on an anti-depressant (I can't remember which one I was on exactly, but during the course of my life I have been on all of them from A to Zoloft). I would tell them how I feel and how I was doing. My therapist and psychiatrist knew all my deepest, darkest secrets. I hid nothing from them, i.e. all my doubts about college, what I want to do with my life (which, by the way, is still a mystery to me at age 36 (scary, huh?))

Of course my therapist and I spent more time together then I did with my psychiatrist, but most of my psychiatrists were very nice and liked to talk a little with me (only one psychiatrist I had as an out-patient was a complete a**hole. I think she needed a psychiatrist, I think her pHd probably stood for Pretty Horrible Doctor). So what remains a mystery to me is, could there have been more they could have, or should have, done to help me in achieving anything? That's what I wonder. I know I couldn't do it on my own. At the rate I was going I didn't know where I was going to end up. Living in a hospital being taken care of for the rest of my life? Living at home with my parents and working in a dismal, low paying retail job (no offense to anyone who works in retail, but I have worked in retail and I find it boring and low paying)? Or worse yet, I might just take my own life. I tried not to think about it or worry about it, but I wasn't succeeding in achieving anything I set out to do, I wasn't gaining any ground. This alone should have been a red flag for the mental health professionals that were supposed to be helping me. Well, all I guess I can say is: who knows? Eventually, I had to take matters into my own hands (and I will get into that in more detail later on)(don't worry it's nothing really really bad, it's actually kind of cool).