My brother made a cd! Of music! It's on CD Baby right now. I'm not saying that your life will be a million times better if you buy it, but it couldn't hurt to test that out, right? LINK!
When I was a kid (let's say 15 and prior to be more specific) I was chubby, and easily embarrassed, and I had pretty low self esteem. I used to walk with my head down, oriented so that I could barely even see in front of me because my shoes were just so fascinating. It's not surprising that people did not respond to this or smile or engage me in conversation.
One day I made the very conscious decision to walk with my head up, fearlessly looking right at people and places, AND I also smiled. I know: revolutionary. It was hard, as my neck had been semi-permanently in a bent-straw like position for years, but I did it. And do you know what happened? Of course you do; you're very smart. People looked back at me. They smiled. They talked. And I did those things back and now it's one of my favorite things about being around people - when strangers look you in the eyes and smile - just because you're another human being and why wouldn't you smile? To me, that smile says: "Hey. I'm not a threat, I'm nice. I know we're all on the same team."
One day when I was driving to work when I lived in PA I passed a dog that was injured on the side of the road. This German Shepard was sort of flopping around it definitely had blood on it's nose and side. I wanted so much to get out of the car and fix it. But. You can't just do that, right? Approach a strange, hurt animal? So I called this animal help line (I keep trying to remember how I had this number - I must have called a friend to look up the number...) and the second I started talking I started crying because holy shit hurt animals are the saddest thing EVER. The woman on the phone was efficient and very cold. It didn't occur to me until after I got off the phone that she clearly thought that since I was calling from my car and I was crying that I had hit the dog and was guiltily calling to get it help.
I have no idea how the dog got hurt or what happened to it. I didn't get home for several hours and of course by then it was gone. I occasionally think about that and I like to think that whoever owned the dog found it and got it help. Let's just think that, ok?
Ending on sad notes sucks. So maybe you should go to You Tube and look up "My Drunk Kitchen"... Just a suggestion.