I am pretty sure now that I should not have children. In my opinion, you should parent either very well or not at all. I doubt I could reach my own standards, and most of my positive energy for a potential family is the idea that I could create a utopia for them and have lifelong companions. I saw myself asking my children questions, resisting the urge to blurt out an answer, letting them experiment for themselves. I could imagine taking them far away from any lights and stargazing with them, listening to what they think and feel when they see the cosmos. Are there people up there? I even thought about all the special traditions I could invent and stay true to every year. I remember my mother lighting candles around us and laying a quilt beneath us as she taught me conversion techniques and read watchtowers. I disapprove of the material now, but it was a pleasant memory. She stopped that after a while. I could take the candles and quilt and turn it into philosophy time. I could give them a well-rounded science and religious education to simultaneously teach them about the world religions ( merits and drawbacks ) and give them tools to individually seek what is true. It will be fun hinting at holes in the Bible and Quran myths, and vital to keep them from being manipulated by fundamentalists, literalists, and extremists of the world religions. I could foster a healthy view of celebration, and train them to always question and push boundaries. I could instill the importance of sustained effort. Grand ideas, but I question if I could do it in practice.
My mother has told me "This job is within your abilities, as was the nursing, but you have never really had to work for your achievements before." She changed from criticism to encouraging positive outlook.
Fuck, I need to keep this job!
Speed and accuracy and working memory and social norms are my weak points, trivial (conceptual) knowledge and warmth and resolve are what I consider my strong points.
I wrote a couple books, and dozens of short stories, and hundreds of poems, but I can't get anything published. "Follow your heart" seems dangerous, as I zig-zag from passion to passion, and I can never cash in on anything I find intrinsically interesting. I am back on the meds my mom had me on in high school. They make me feel like shit, but she said it makes a slight difference in my issues.
Well, I have a paper to write.