Stop complaining. I am the same age as you, plus or minus a year. I am homeless, destitute, and broke. No assets at all, no retirement at all. Not even a car, or even a bicycle. I don't have a bank account. I was top of my class in (engineering major at a t{1,2} uni). Failed startup, sabotaged startup, victim of crimes and false criminal accusations. Now, no wife, no future. I fight suicidal urges constantly and keep a method handy in case things get bad enough. My means to survive are limited to none, and my future is bleak.
I write this comment to you from a public library with no clean clothes, food stamps that will run out well before they refill, a disability that cannot be properly treated, and a totally ruined career trajectory.
Stop fucking complaining. Cherish what you have. Focus on your physical health. Go walk 10 miles a day -- EVERY DAY -- for a year. Yes, that is over 3,500 miles. Get good shoes and stretch often; eat clean. Flush those damn meds in the process. Then report back.
I'm a lot closer to your situation than the OP, and you're right, it sucks. But don't be so harsh, I'm pretty sure that if I was in the OP's shoes I'd have to deal with similar challenges.
Scrabbling after the means for survival isn't any more or less noble than scrabbling after meaning in one's life. One is merely a prerequisite for the other.
This is the wrong way to approach mental health and privilege. All suffering/experience is relative to the individual. Your using the same "starving kids in Africa" argument and it is irrelevant.
I write this comment to you from a public library with no clean clothes, food stamps that will run out well before they refill, a disability that cannot be properly treated, and a totally ruined career trajectory.
Stop fucking complaining. Cherish what you have. Focus on your physical health. Go walk 10 miles a day -- EVERY DAY -- for a year. Yes, that is over 3,500 miles. Get good shoes and stretch often; eat clean. Flush those damn meds in the process. Then report back.