I agree with just about every word everyone has posted on this thread. I am mid-50s and I've been working since the day I turned 16, eligible to work. For the majority of these years it's been secretarial-type work, and I have been saying practically since the beginning "I don't want to be a secretary my whole life" and "I don't want to work in an office my whole life." 30+ years later, here I still am,, not the same exact job but same work. I've changed jobs nearly 20 times, some were better than others, some I think could have grown into something more, typically I was miserable overall and quit, thinking the next job would be better... which it was, for a while, then same ****. What it boils down to is that I don't have any other skills, I am very good at it, never have a problem getting a job, and with very good companies and very good pay.

I have struggled with depression, anxiety, bi-polar for most of my adult life. I get bored at work easily and then the depression increases. I take a lot of "sick" time (I call it "mental health days") which my employers of course are not happy with me about. Several times over the years I've even taken short-term disability because my depression has gotten so severe, I simply could not cope and frankly did not care. About five years ago I was so bad that I went to the ER, fearing that I'd try suicide, and they sent me to a psych hospital for a week followed by outpatient therapy for a month. A few months after that I had a near-fatal illness and was hospitalized two months and had home health care for four more months. HERE'S THE REALLY SAD THING: I now look back on these two terrible episodes with near-fondness. Being that sick, being hospitalized, meant no work, no responsibilities at home, nothing to do but take care of myself. I swear, I have moments that I try to figure out to get that sick again. It's frightening and pathetic.

It's not that I don't want to work at all. What pains me is that I get absolutely NO satisfaction, meaning, fulfillment. These corporations and what they do means nothing to me. Other than a job well-performed, I go home each day thinking "well, damn, there's another 8 hours I'll never get back." Plus 1.5 hours each way commute... so 11 hours, poof!, gone.

If I could do anything in the universe, I always say I want to be a recluse. Stay home, never leave. Read books. Do crafts and sew. Watch movies and TV. Play with my pets. Garden. Travel--for that I'd leave the house. In truth, though, I know I'd get bored eventually, in which case I would get some little part-time job doing something that strictly was enjoyable. Or I'd volunteer at the animal shelter or library.

But what I am truly struggling with now and cannot figure out, and what perhaps brought me here today, is what to do about it? I look ahead to the next 10-12 years (at best) until I can retire, and I wanna slit my throat. I feel angry at the world. I hate myself for my poor choices, that I ended up in a career I loathe. I am resentful towards my husband--why can't he make more money so I don't need to work? Recently our finances went down the drain, so there is no way we can survive without my pay.

I've read this entire thread history and agree with so much of it. But didn't find much in the way of actual advice. It's important for us to talk but answers/advice would be helpful too.

Oh God, I've gone on long enough, sorry. But it feels good to vent and put it on 'paper.' Thanks for listening.