I'm dying inside with worries and fears

There was a storm. And I went for a walk by the beach. The sand was going in circles and flowing low around the edges, making roads and dunes and filling my pockets with air and dust and sorrow. I was tired. I was scared. I didn't know what else to do. I checked my bank account: €4586.63. Maybe I was one of those guys. You know, you can see it in their eyes—those who want you to make his "million-dollar" idea for 50% of the profits. You immediately know when you see one. You know he's not going to make it. I was afraid to be one. I used to be a developer. But I hated it. I don't know if I was a good one. Or even a bad one. Or even a regular one. I didn't like it. So it doesn't matter. I tried to become a copywriter. I failed. I tried to start a company. And another one. And another one. And another one. Yes. I know. I know. I have already read all the advice. All the books. All the comments. All the projects I started, I believed, were brilliant ideas. Maybe I don' have what it takes. Maybe It wasn't meant to be. Who knows. I don't know. The sad thing is... I can't trust myself anymore. That's painful. It hurts. It makes me want to run through the dunes under the storm and disappear forever with the wind. But I don't even know how to do that. Because I always want to come back and try again. But I can't trust myself anymore because I failed. And I failed the promises I made to the ones that trusted me. And I want to cry because I also failed them. It breaks me to look into my other half's eyes and say again: this time is different. It's never different and I die inside. It breaks me into pieces, and those pieces break again, and what is left is what I am, the broken pieces left. Dreams, goals, all into the broken pile with the ashes of what is left of me, under the sand, wind, and sorrow. Maybe I am not the kind of person that knows how to do something. But I don't know what else to do. I don't know. I don't know.