My predicament , this apiphany

In times of trouble,
With family , friends ...
And when I fall short of the mark
All the pre-requested ticks
Good job , good marriage , good car,
After all the sermons and requests, - not granted
Fall prey to self-pity,
I torture myself in a prison made by my mind
That taunts me with all my inconsistencies and inadequacies,
And they ...
They have it together, so together
How did they find God? Or religion ? Or purpose?
And why can't I be like:
Them ... like her ... like THEM ... or him?
In my atmosphere of melancholy , my clouds of anxiety
Rise , desire is dead - all feeling is DEAD,
I'm numb to my feelings , I'm numb to it all
That life , what is it?
Silence , passive-aggressive can you feel the distance?
Because my mother raised me to be
A flower child , beautiful child
She said , always love , always be kind - be true
But that was meet with - anything but that
Silence , I'm passive- aggressive , can you feel the distance?
 See , it's not because I'm weak
I'm trying to process all the stuff that my mama said
And the stuff in my head that says,
I need to punch you , slap you , taste some blood
Like them?
Them ... like HER? Like HIM? Like THEM?
Comparison , competition , organisation, superficial
And yet -
Happily , I think of you
And then all the conflicting
Burning,
Like a power , a realisation
And then my predicament , this epiphany
I sing praises to Him,
For your love ,
Such beauty brings
I would scorn to change my state,
With kings.

Inspired by Sonnet 29 by W. Shakespeare.