My main goal in life has been my (creative) career to the exclusion of everything else. I'm not sure I even want anything else now. I'm not even sure I want a creative career! It's more that it's the lesser of the evils while I'm stuck here.
I think it's more likely- if I'm able to continue in my prefered field that I'll make small improvements as I learn. I'm bound to make f*ck ups too of course. Still, I'll never be as good as I wanted to be. What's more strange is, the past few years, I've started to care less. I don't have the same drive and passion I used to. I still try to do a good job. It still bothers me greatly when I fail but, the love has largely gone out of it. So maybe for that reason too, I won't progress as much as I'd hoped. Even if I did, I'm not sure it would be enough to make me happy.
I have this weird relationship with my work. Someone I used to work for remarked that I wasn't good at taking compliments. I'd shrug it off- almost as if someone else had done the work. I think because in my mind, it is almost like someone else had done it. Being creative has been a coping mechanism for me since childhood. So, it's a bit like being praised for being maladjusted in a way. Plus, there's always something I'm unhappy with on pretty much everything I've done and I think we tend to focus on the negatives a lot.
For me though, it's like I might not have peaked but I don't know that I care to anymore. I want it all to be over more than anything else. Everything else pretty much feels like coping and distraction.