Struggling through marshmallow Jello . . .

I get so frustrated with myself. I don’t know how I feel about anything right now. There are a lot of things I would like to know; things I wish were clear. Based on what I know, I would draw reasonable and strong conclusions. Then I would act in perfect reasonability. But I can’t know them and I can’t ever act correctly. Hind-sight shows all my faults and I feel, again, as if I failed. Then I fall into all of the doubts and frustrations that have plagued me for so long: I’ve never been anywhere, done anything, been heart-broken, or acted on my passions for a cause. The list goes on. Will I ever be strong enough to be anything? Will anything ever become of my life? When will something slightly extreme happen to me? When will I be touched by something extreme? Will I ever have depth? Will I ever have intimacy? Will I ever feel real hatred or bitterness? Why am I here? Just for everyone else? Or is my life actually going to form into something unique? I feel stuck. Am I impatient? I wish I could do the work I have now with excellence and trust that I will grow. Instead I feel like I struggle and fail all the time. Marshmallow Jello, I suppose. I struggle through Jello, stumbling over marshmallows all the time. It’s a pitiful sight, but that’s life.