It made me think

I saw the movie FAME a few weeks ago with my friend. It was okay. Not what i expected, and I was hopeing for a longer movie. There was just too much in it, and i don't feel as though they let the characters build their stories enough. It was just thrown out there. But that's not why I'm venting.
There was a scene where this ballet dancer was talking with his instructor or something. It was the end of his senior year. He always dreamed of being a famous dancer. He worked his butt off the entire time he was in this school. Harder than anyone else. He was being told that he wasn't good enough. That no matter how much he worked he could never be good enough. However, he would make a good instructor. The scene cut to him and his friends at a train station. I could all too perfectly see everything going through his mind. He feels lost. Like he had been lied to. Like he didn't know who he was. Like he had wasted time doing something that he could be no better than mediocre at. It looked as though he was going to commit suicide by jumping infront of a train. His friends pulled him back. I started crying like a baby during this scene, and my friend couldn't understand why.
I've been there, and seen what wanting something so bad can do to your brain. Thankfully I never went so far as to try to kill myself. But there was a point where I wanted to die. I wanted it so badly. My flute was my craft. It was all I knew for years. I practiced longer and harder than anyone else. But I wasn't good enough. No matter what I did, how I practiced, I couldn't have it. It wasn't fair. Why the hell was I here, if I couldn't be a band director, what the hell would I do with my life? I would lie in bed crying myself to sleep dreading my next practice. My next lesson. I hated it. I hated that life. So I got out of it. I pulled myself away from doing something I would one day regret.
I got a glimpse of this again. I was told that my news article wasn't good enough to get published. I didn't go into a slump though. It was concidered. I have my foot in the door, and one day I'll get through it. I love my new life more than anything.
I have something I didn't have the first time. People who want me to succeed. I have fans of my new craft. teachers that are willing to take me on as a challege to them If I can succeed as a writer, anyone can.
Dear Jesus, help me though this. Help me to pick myself up when I am down. Keep the feeling of 'why am i doing this?' away for forever. thank you. amen