a question of timing

I wonder when, realistically, I'll finally feel accomplished and proud of my achievements thusfar with my education and in my field. Or just period; I'm a workaholic but still don't seem to recognize my hard efforts.

Anyway, I don't want to sit around and self-diagnose, but I also don't want to sit around at all. It just seems like I'm letting it all get to me, like I've closed myself off from the world of hopes and aspirations, as though I've simply stopped seeing the light and possibilities of life. Sleeping a lot, or just ongoing lethargy and fatigue, eventually sends up flares as early signs of depression, which I simply do not need in my life ever again....but I am in Phoenix, the Land of Many Woes, a place which, in its original and memorable form, harbors years of embedded sorrows and aimlessness. Now, as the concrete literally takes on new shapes before my eyes, my sense of direction and dedication is askew; I simply do not know where to go.

Obviously, the slightest bit of effort on my part goes a very long way. I have not invested it. I have only but to walk into an establishment and tell them of even a few of my many credentials, and then step back and have them offer me their very best available position. This isn't something I consider regularly. I must know, deep down, that all I have to do is try, but the inner battle began before I even arrived here, and the victory of trying has been lost among the turmoil and figurative slain and maimed warriors clashing within.

But, here I am taking advantage of Internet at my friends' house, and this is precisely where I came to begin to attempt to think about actually trying. I think I just might.