I think so. When I was a teen it was my dream to be an English teacher and maybe an author on the side. Which I’m now grateful I didn’t follow through with after seeing the immense disrespect and horrible pay that teachers have to deal with. It was my dream to spread my love for literature and creativity with others that would (have no choice) listen to it. The only downside is I’d skip school so much in middle and high school it didn’t look good on my transcript. I passed every year of school with mostly A and B averages. I didn’t do any extra curricular activities or do anything that would make an impact like charitable events, which my counselors said would make a big difference on college applications. I did get accepted to the colleges of my choice, but between manic and mixed episodes I never did any of the financial aspects. I didn’t apply for scholarships or student loans, when it was time to apply for my FAFSA my stepmother refused to fill out or let my Dad fill out their financial information so I could get aid. Told me their finances was “none of my business” even though I knew their only source of income was welfare (nothing wrong with welfare, but they didn’t need it at all and loved handouts). So I ended up going through another manic episode where I was sneaking out and fucking every guy I could find, shoplifting for the hell of it to make myself feel better (which was my go to adrenaline rush before sex), and stealing money from work and buying more unnecessary shit than I needed. And I met a guy 6 years older than me a week before graduation (I was 18 and had moved out the week before to a duplex with a long time friend), and immediately started dating him. And that’s when I forgot about my dreams completely because I was in pure euphoric mania. I believed this man was the love of my life and my soul mate, that we would be together for the rest of our lives and everything would be okay. But we didn’t know each other. We dated a year and 9 months and it was hell. After we broke up we maintained a friendship and now we’ve known each other 6 years. He was the first to find out about my diagnosis besides my Mother, and he was so happy I was getting the help I needed because I was completely psychotic while we dated and for a year after we broke up because I wasn’t over him. But now I’m close friends with his fiancé, who isn’t threatened in the least. We’ve all gone on vacation together. When they found out about my self harm (by accident I might add), they gave me no choice and moved me to their house so one of them could be present with me for 3 months until my meds finally started working. And now I have a steady career as a welder making good money, even if it wasn’t my dream I’m content and happy with my decisions (sometimes😝). Even if we don’t see our dreams and life goals through we still have time to achieve them, or change them. It’s easier when you have family and friends who love you enough to help you through it.