Halfway through my 30s

I just reread my InsaneJournal entry from exactly ten years ago, when I turned 25. That was back when I was struggling to get a job, which was exacerbating my depression. The estrangement in my family didn't help either. Now, the job problem's taken care of, until the day they start scapegoating the psychiatrically disabled anyway, and my mother and sister are talking, but my father is dead. My depression is now being exacerbated by the world's suffering, rather than my own. A lot happens in ten years. I'm still struggling with the headaches and the gastric issues, though at least I have a better idea of what's causing them.
That was also when I was trying to write novels. I'm still kind of doing that, but it's not my priority anymore. I wanted something that would continue to be read after my death back then. Now, I wonder how long humanity will outlive me. On the more positive side of looking at it, I've learned to take pride in my fanfic, the way it took me until my thirties to do. Back then I was considering singing lessons too. Now I just sing. I'm currently hoping to record my next one in a couple of weeks, once the pollen levels go down.