I can relate. I'm 41 and nothing. I'm not sure how my parents pulled off their lives. They were always getting married and stuff, having affairs, stormy moods. They were always so quick on the draw with the bright side, particularly my mother. It seems pathological to me now. Men and women without a moral code just repeating things they hear. I'm not sure how well they would have handled the kind of aloneness that has defined my life. I don't think they would have liked it. I don't think they will ever completely face their own conceits and fears. Living in the details, in the middle, is too hard. I hope I am not too old to at least live in reality.
As far as I can tell, the way out seems to be morality, learning to listen, to accept that while I did not choose to be the person I became, I can at least try to see and hear clearly, to live in the real world which can change, as opposed to the fantasy of extremes, the high and the low, which is maybe as changeless as the voice of the crying inner person still craving the focus of an out to lunch parent.