A woman in her 20s feels she's squandered her life so far. But, says Mariella Frostrup, she hasn't lost her sense of humour – all she needs now is some perspective
The dilemma I have a problem taking responsibility for myself. I am in my late 20s and have a bad credit rating, a track record of terrible relationships, a tendency to lie and an inability to face reality. What was permissible in my teens became regrettable in my 20s, and I worry that if it continues I'll be heading for a very dark 30s and onward. I'm stuck. The problems of the past seem insurmountable. The mistakes I've made take up a lot of my time and even though I am accountable for my own situation, I find myself furious and bearing grudges. I am jealous and angry all the time. And I'm aware that this self-obsession is horrible and corrosive. I'd wager the people around me are being far more tolerant than I would be capable of. I feel as though I am slipping off the edge of a cliff. I don't know if I need the therapist's couch or a kick up the arse. Please point me in the right direction. I'll try anything.
Mariella replies A bit of both should do the trick. I'm ill qualified for the first treatment, so allow me the pleasure of the latter. You've lined up your foibles like skittles, ready for me to topple, so it's not as if you don't recognise what needs to change. That's half the problem, though, isn't it? You're way too eager for me to confirm what a waste of space you are. I'm not falling for it. Your letter wasn't extracted from my inbox because I thought you were a dire case in need of emergency counselling, but because you have retained your sense of humour along with your capacity for self-analysis, self-pity and, yes, self-indulgence! Clearly you are not a lost cause.
You've self-diagnosed; now you just need to remedy your situation. I don't want to downgrade your symptoms, but they're pretty common. In our privileged world, ravaged (as we see it) by banking crisis, unemployment and insecurity about our future, we entirely fail to value our mere existence, particularly in good health, as something special. Instead our best days either lie behind us, so we waste our time reminiscing about them, or our happiness awaits at some future point on which we focus myopically, blinkered to the journeying. I often wonder if it's because our lives are so less precarious than in other less developed parts of the world that we fail to cherish the here and now.
Increasingly we are screen-bound voyagers, experiencing the vagaries of life from the comfort of our homes, addicted to the ups and downs of other people's lives, reducing our energy and enthusiasm to tackle our own. You shrug off the more than 20 years that have already passed and mutter about getting to grips with things before you are 30. That will be a third of your life you've relegated to a practice run!
I don't want to don the hat of the missionary do-gooder – regulars know it would be a poor fit for yours truly – but it's often been on travels that I've picked up tips for living well. Visiting some of the most challenged areas in Africa, rechristened by Bob Geldof the "Luminous Continent", you're surprised by an infectious degree of joy among women and children that's in direct contrast to their circumstances. Whether it's at a refugee camp in Chad or a malarial ward in Mozambique, kids kicking an air-filled plastic bag in lieu of a football in the slums of Nairobi or market women in central Monrovia packing up after an 18-hour day, the laughter is irresistible.
Here we struggle to achieve similar degrees of happiness, pop antidepressants to get through the day and squander time living vicariously through soap-opera storylines and celebrity elevation and decline. You're in the same boat as many twentysomethings these days. The trick is whether you can abandon this dead-end trajectory before you hit 30.
Life is rife with frustrations, jealousies and, on occasion, an overwhelming sense of its injustices, but it's a big mistake to let such negative sentiments rule our lives and dictate choices. Emotions are products of our mind, and we can actually train ourselves to choose whether we banish or embrace them.
Deciding to zoom in on positivity instead of negativity is as difficult as giving up fags, and you may well falter on the way. Your clear-headed description of your own foibles is more than enough to kickstart the process. If finding the good in your life proves difficult, take some time out and offer your services somewhere where survival is at a greater premium. You'll be amazed how immeasurably your experience of life improves when you've witnessed the pleasure in minutiae taken by those for whom it's a daily struggle just to stay alive. Flights to the Democratic Republic of the Congo are pretty cheap at present!
If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. Follow Mariella on Twitter @mariellaf1