I'm a month into my 30s, an age I always looked forward to because by then I should have my life together, know what I want, know my purpose, and know who I am.

As is the irony of life, my life is in shambles, I am unemployed (for almost a year!) and in debt. I want to be a paid television writer. I think writing is part of my life's purpose, but I haven't had any success due to a series of compulsively squandered job opportunities and years hiding in the petrifying fear of showing up to my career -- all of which I blamed on my youth. I am still, at the age of 30, on the square before square one while many of my peers have passed me by and are writing on successful shows.

Even though I was wrong about most of what achieving 30 would mean, I, with the help of five years in a 12-step program, thought I knew who I was, or at least what I was not. I recently discovered I qualified for three additional programs in addition to my first. So, instead of victorious self-awareness, I've had a whole new surprising part of me exposed, a part that was a total mystery, one of which is my debtor behavior.  

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You are an amazing voice of reason out there, so I am writing to you. In a nutshell, I am miserable. I am 39 going on 40. Anyone looking at my life from the outside would think (and they are correct) I have nothing to complain about. I have three great kids, wife of many years, am a successful professional who makes enough money to perhaps not be a 1-percenter, but certainly a 5-percenter. Heck, I was a college athlete and am still in good shape. So why do I feel so worthless?

I am OCD and depressive. I used to drink, and stopped cold-turkey several years ago because I figured out I was drinking myself into a stupor to turn off the feelings of hopelessness, and the next day, when I would be sick, was the lowest. And as my kids got older I did not want them to see me out of control like that. I was not "addicted" to alcohol, i.e., I was able to stop. It was simply my therapy of choice for these feelings of wanting to be dead.

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You said in your column that you want letters ... so I think I might send you a few. I have some things I'm sorting through that I suspect your intuition/insight would be especially helpful with. They have to do with the past, addictions and creative growth. So, here's one. This is about an ex and moving past the past.

About 3.5 years ago I started dating someone I met through work. I broke up with my then-boyfriend of three years, with whom I lived, to be with the new guy. At the time I felt a few things: 1) that it was a soul mate connection, larger than me; 2) that I didn't really know why I was doing it because my current boyfriend was wonderful and I loved him; 3) that I didn't deserve to be treated well, and because the new guy reminded me so much of my alcoholic father, I knew he would treat me badly and at a deep level I wanted to be punished. I wish I could say No. 3 was a barely conscious or subconscious voice that I only later recognized, but I actually articulated that feeling, pretty much verbatim, to the boyfriend I was leaving. Well, the relationship turned out as one might expect. In addition to the alcoholism -- over which he was in denial, and in fact there is a whole lot of addiction and a whole lot of denial in his family -- he was verbally and emotionally abusive. There were lots of other problems too, but anyone who is familiar with dysfunctional/addictive relationships can probably fill in the details. I played my role in the dysfunction as well. We lasted about eight months. Most of that I was miserable, we had epic fights, I stayed because I told myself I needed to take my punishment, and by the time we broke up my self-esteem was in such shreds that I was cutting myself. I should add that I was in my mid-20s at the time and he was 10 years older. I finally broke up with him when I tried to interrupt one of his hours-long tirades by explaining (again) that it was not OK with me to be screamed at and called names, no matter how angry he was, and he responded with the following: "I get to yell at you when I'm angry." It wasn't until that moment that I realized I could explain and explain, but his behavior was not going to change because he thought it was an OK way to behave. If I thought it was not OK, it was on me to leave. So I did, and I got into a 12-step program, and I worked my program, and I went to therapy, and I got on with my life. I am much happier and healthier now than I have ever been, and I'm still growing, and I am in a healthy loving relationship of over a year.

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I am a freelance bookkeeper. I had been seeing one of my clients a couple of times a week at his home office for over 15 years. Over time, we became friends -- having dinner together every once in a while and even going to the movies. He knew my family and was invited to holiday meals. There was never any indication that he had romantic feelings for me even though he has always been very generous and kind. In fact, I always thought he was the best person character-wise that I know but he always has seemed rather cold, emotionally. As an example, there was one time I just naturally tried to give him a hug on my way out the door and he stiffened like I had really crossed a line. It struck me as being very strange. I vowed then never again to be so "friendly." He's never seemed to have any friends much less a girlfriend.

About eight years ago, I advised him to purchase a house as he was making good money and doing so would (and did) save him quite a bit at tax time. He was resistant to the idea and always "teased" that if things didn't work out he would come to live with me. To make a long story short, his business took a dive, he lost the house and had to declare bankruptcy in March of last year.

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I am a 38-year-old woman having a hidden affair with my ex-husband of 10 years ago. To be completely honest, we're just having sex, no seduction involved. Old feelings are welling up for me, some good but mostly bad, all with a huge side order of guilt and shame. I don't think my ex has feelings for anyone except himself and our children. He's the most selfish person I know while extolling himself any chance he gets as a model of generosity. Yes, he's free with money and he's pleasant and jocular with strangers, acquaintances and friends, but he's stingy with his feelings. I'm realizing (again) that he doesn't seem to have any. He seems to exist on a completely superficial plane and when someone pisses him off he tells them how he feels and is done with them. He doesn't give anyone a chance to reply, just cuts them off. To him any discussion is an argument. He avoids confrontation unless he's the one instigating it. I should mention that he smokes pot daily, several times a day, and has since he was a teenager.

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I have been reading your column for the last year and it has helped me a lot. Your insights have deeply inspired me. Thank you!

Please forgive me if I make some mistakes in this letter, English is not my native language.

I had a troubled upbringing and my teenage years were hell. My relationship with my parents was a nightmare. My mother was very violent, controlling, manipulative and volatile. I suspect now that she has narcissistic personality disorder. I spent most of my time as a child being afraid of her, trying my best to be invisible to her, but when I hit puberty I became extremely rebellious. She had a very clear idea of who I should be as a person. I had to fight very hard to keep being myself, and I have had to fight even harder not to feel worthless by being me. Even now, after a lot of years, when she is in a rage she tells me I am nothing just because I don't fit in with her ideas of success. I have very limited contact with her for sake of my sanity.

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I am 20, for the past year I have been in an on-again, off-again sexual relationship with a grad student at my university who is six years my senior; let's call him X. Most recently, X and I have been on-again, and he is going to graduate from his program in a few weeks. X told me he didn't want anything exclusive, so I have been with several other guys at the same time I have been with him. The problem is, X doesn't want to have sex again. The last time we did it, it frankly sucked; neither of us was properly aroused, and the next day I texted him to say that it would be better the next time, and he replied that he was sure it would be. There hasn't been a next time, and it is really bothering me because X has been willing to run errands for me and even hang out with me and my best friend, but he has spurned all my advances, saying things like, "You don't even need me, you get so many guys." I resent that, Cary; I especially resent it because he most recently told me that I was "by far the sluttiest" out of the 13 women he has been with in his life. I don't understand why he suddenly lost interest in me sexually, yet is still willing to do me favors and text me every day. I asked him point-blank, "Are you sick of me?" and he told me he was. He says it isn't because I have been with other guys besides him, but I don't see what else it could be. It's incredibly frustrating because I can have sex with other guys, but I want him one more time. Do you have any ideas why somebody would just lose sexual interest all of a sudden? Do you think he could be insecure because I am so openly sexual and the women in his past were not?

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A few months ago, I got a new supervisor at work.  I was excited because this is someone I’ve known for years, and have even considered a mentor in the past.  Unfortunately, I had a string of personal losses in the past few months — deaths and major illnesses of loved ones, that sort of thing — and I recently realized I was skating the edges of depression and taking it out on my supervisor.  I’ve been working to repair the damage I did, since even though it was inadvertent, it was clearly my doing.  So I was feeling pretty good about that, but then I learned that my supervisor, who is not on Facebook, has been told by others that I’m saying nasty things about her there.  I have no way to determine whether these folks are being willfully malicious, generically shit-stirring, or just very foolish, but in any case, I haven’t said anything at all, bad or good.  So I’m doubly hurt by this, first that some unknown entity would either lie or egregiously misinterpret and assume the worst, and second that my old mentor would choose to believe these stories without even questioning me.  In my head, I’ve run through various scenarios, including printing out my entire Facebook history to show her, and, well, things that are even less sane.  I want to do the sensible, straightforward thing and just tell her it isn’t true, but I’m worried that she won’t believe me or I’ll get defensive and set the relationship back again.  What can I do?

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Do you believe there is such a thing as a "quarter-life crisis"? I'm turning 25 next week, but I am so sick of waiting for my life to begin.

OK, background story: I decided very early in high school I wanted to be a nurse. I loved the idea of traveling and thought that nursing could translate across borders. So the life plan was simple: graduate from nursing school with a BSN, work two years as a staff nurse on a general medicine floor to get experience, then work abroad for Doctors Without Borders, return home and go to graduate school for my nurse practitioner degree, get married ... (you get the trend).

Well, Phases 1 and 2 have been accomplished. I'm currently working as a staff nurse at a busy city hospital and in September 2013 I'll have been working there for exactly two years. So September is the big month, time for me to move on, do something or go somewhere new.

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I've been reading your column for years and it's helped me a lot. Thank you for that.

A recent suggestion that a daughter-in-law who throws outrageous tantrums at the end of visits might have a borderline personality disorder really struck a chord with me. The videos you linked to were so similar to my mother. For example, at least twice a year she'll unleash a barrage of furious and hostile emails and phone calls to me and accuse me of gloating while she cries, being abusive, lambasting her and making her as miserable as I possibly can, never saying anything supportive, being secretive and a user (because I didn't tell her that my husband and I had separated until we knew for sure we were headed for divorce) ... I could go on and on. None of it matches my view of myself at all, though I do tend to close myself off and not react when she screams at me. I used to get really wrapped up in the hurtful things she says, but I'm used to it enough that it mostly gives me a week or two of feeling depressed and like I'm a horrible person, and then I just shrug and carry on.

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Regarding my last two columns, this one and this one, I seem to have made an error that was offensive to many people who identify as bisexual, and I apologize. I do. I really do. I can really fall in love with my own nonsense sometimes. And to those who have written agreeing with me, I appreciate it, but I think I was wrong.

Here is the flaw in my thinking, courtesy of a kindly scholar of argument:

"Logically, your position relies on a fallacy of amphiboly that confuses two different uses of the term 'two.'  Being attracted to 'two' sexes is not the same thing as wanting 'two' partners. Could a bisexual person be polyamorous?  Sure. But so could a heterosexual person. You say that being lesbian means one wants to be partners with women (etc).  Does that mean that being a lesbian means that one wants to be partners with ALL women?  More than one woman? By extension, does being heterosexual (man wants to be partners with women) mean that a man wants to be partners with ALL women? More than one? Besides, being bisexual doesn't mean that one has 'two' attractions.  It means that one’s preferences don’t necessarily depend on sex.  It’s not that you want to have sex with 'both' men and women.  It’s just as easily that you want to have sex with either a man or a woman."

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In response to a recent column about a bisexual woman who was wondering if she should marry, some people wrote angrily to say that one does not have to want to be in a plural marriage to be bisexual. That makes sense. They said that they were bisexual but happy in a committed monogamous relationship. That too sounds reasonable. Some claimed to have been hurt or insulted by my recent words about bisexuality. So I reexamined what I wrote.

I want to be kind and I want to be fair and want to admit that I can make mistakes. I hurt some people and I am sorry. I erred in not speaking to enough bisexual people to understand the sensitivity of the issue. I got swept away in the pure logic of it. For that I am sorry.

But let me state affirmatively what underlies my thinking. People need to make choices based on who they really are. In order to do that they must have legal choices that suit who they are.

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Believe it or not, I'm getting low on letters. So talk to me! What's going on in your life? What are you thinking about? Let's write to each other. You write to me, I write back here, for all the world to see. No problem too small! No problem too strange! No ideas too outlandish to contemplate here together! Write to me!

Good Morning Mr. Tennis,

My daughter-in-law is a wonderful mother -- smart, fun and loves my son and their two children -- a very competent person in almost all respects.

She and my son live about 1,100 miles away and we have family gatherings two or three times a year. She is prone to throw screaming, crying tantrums based on minor events and always blaming someone for her distress.

She is not alcoholic or addicted to any drugs but I've seen this type of behavior in alcoholics I've known. These tantrums occur at the very end of our family gatherings and occur with her family as well as with our family. She can't be talked down or reasoned with and if ignored will escalate, often physically leaving the group (walking away).

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I am a single parent looking to get back into dating, and perhaps even to meet someone that I fall madly in love with. As I have not had much luck out there in the real world I have decided to try out online dating websites.

I have an ethical dilemma. My child has a mild intellectual disability. Obviously there are men out there who would be willing to date a woman who already has a child, but when should I mention that my child is not what they may expect (in many wonderful ways, I think). If I mention this upfront, I doubt anyone will ever want to get to know me at all, but if I don't mention it up front I feel like I am being misleading.

Thank you for any insight you may offer,

Single For Nine Years and Counting

Dear Single,

I don't think you are being misleading if, in talking with someone you have just met, you don't immediately mention that your child has a mild intellectual disability.

When should you mention it? You should mention it when you know someone well enough that you feel comfortable mentioning it. As to how to present yourself in this online dating forum, I would avoid wherever possible the tendency to list your attributes and deficiencies, as though you could be reduced to  a checklist.

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I'm a 21-year-old woman, and I've been engaged since 18. (We're not really religious or anything, so that's not a factor.) When we decided to get married, for me it was kind of on a whim. I was young and didn't really get what it means to make a lifetime commitment. So now we live together and plan to get married later this year. I love him more than anything. He's my best friend and knows me better than anyone else. We get along great and rarely fight. He would make an incredible husband. But at the same time, I don't feel ready to make a lifetime commitment.

I feel I haven't had enough time to experience life independently and develop myself. I know that he doesn't feel the same way. He's very serious about getting married and seems to have no second thoughts. We're the same age. To make things more complicated, he recently lost a parent and lost his job, and he's going through a hard time, and I love him and want to support him, not make things worse. I don't know what to do.

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Just yesterday, my cat died. I know that will probably not sound like a big deal to many of your readers, but it is monumental in my world. He was not just any cat. He was the kitten I was tasked with caring for when he was less than a week old. His eyes weren't even open yet, and he had been abandoned in the dog toy aisle of a PetSmart. I was working at the vet clinic next door, and was planning on adopting another dog. I was allergic to cats. I said I'd foster him for two weeks ... and up until yesterday, I would follow that sentence by saying, "and almost eight years later, I have a cat." Now there is nothing but hurt.

I bottle-fed him every two hours, and I made him pee and poo. He had no mother, and I have never been anyone's mother ... nor will I ever be. Except his. I taught him how to use a litter box, and I taught him and my dog to get along. On his own, he learned to sit in response to both voice and hand signals, just by watching the dog. He would come when called, and one day he decided to walk on a leash because he simply didn't want to be left behind when we took the dog out.

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My nephew just lost his job, the second time in two years. He held his first job for almost 20 years and then in 2011 his company cut back. He got a second job, but this has not worked out. I was also unemployed in 2011. My nephew offered me financial assistance and he was the only family member who did. Fortunately, I did not have to take anything from him. I would like to help him now by giving him a check for $5,000 to help him get through this -- but will I be hurting his pride? Should I just stay out of it?

Generous but Sensitive

Dear Generous but Sensitive,

Was your pride hurt when he offered to help you? It sounds like you felt grateful -- and surprised that he was the only one in the family who offered. Perhaps he will feel as you did.

Why didn't the rest of the family offer to help you? Were they thinking, "Oh, don't offer to help, it's a matter of pride"? A lot of good that did.

So offer to help. Offer to help and if you are refused then find little ways to help anyway. Find things you can do. It may be that a lump sum of $5,000 is not needed yet, but let him know the money is available if he needs it.

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I just read your column advising Lost in the Fog, and I couldn't help relating his/her feeling of imprisonment to my own. I'm a freshman in college and I'm extremely unhappy. I don't know exactly how to express this state of discontentment because I've never felt it before. In high school, I self-medicated a lot with pot, taking the pressure off myself. Now I'm at college and it's way harder so I had to stop smoking, but I'm miserable.

I can't seem to escape my ego. I fear constantly that I won't succeed in life -- and for some reason my definition of success is achieving some sort of artistic greatness that will result in fame. I realize this is a totally superficial and selfish goal, but I literally can't stop thinking about it. I tell myself to just be patient, to get through college so that I can explore different forms of art, but I can't find my niche and it's torturous. I feel like I'm a 35-year-old trapped in an 18-year-old's body.

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Exactly two years ago my mother died. I went to the hometown to take care of things and then my girlfriend joined me for the funeral. She acted her part great, but there was something in the air.

After the ceremony we went home, and as I got undressed and lay on the bed I was thinking, "Now I can fall apart, and cry and mourn." In that exact moment, my girlfriend approached me and said that when she was preparing for travel to the funeral, she found an opened box of condoms. She was on the pill; I used them for hygienic purposes in our lovemaking that she didn't know about, and she expects me to explain it.

The next three hours is a blur. I finally managed to ease her concerns, but the moment for mourning was lost. And I can't get over it.

My relationship with my mother was a difficult one. Lately I had thought of her as the always demanding monster who took away the best years of my life. And in the moment the monster died, when I was to be free at last, another one took its place and presented her demands.

I didn't cheat on my girlfriend, but it was this moment I felt that that sacrifice on my part was wasted.

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I am a writer. I love to write, and I make my living from writing, in journalism. I gave up a full-time newspaper job to freelance some years ago, which in many ways (not financially) was a great move. So I write and research and work hard every day, pretty much, and hundreds, thousands of words flow easily, which are then published in newspapers, magazines, online. It's great; it's so satisfying to make a well-crafted piece of work.

Yet I don't feel like a real writer. Both a screenplay based on a true story and a novel based on my own early life came grinding to a halt. Without being egotistical, I've been around long enough to know they are both excellent topics, great stories. But I just freeze up after three chapters or a couple of acts. I can't seem to keep going. The bio-novel made me incredibly anxious, bringing up memories I don't want to deal with but must to get them on the page. So I tried it as nonfiction, a pop-culture documentary, switching the focus somewhat and looking at events from a more journalistic angle. Nup.

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