It’s true. This life is not what I want, what I need. This Is not how this should play out. I am supposed to be happy. I am supposed to be fun. To be bold. When did I become this hollow shell of a person? How did this happen? I could blame it on a million things, but I think it’s my fault.
All my life I have lived for others. For my family, for my friends, for men. Never for myself. It’s funny really, how I’ve changed myself to fit into different molds. Not me. I think I might know who I am, maybe?
I am wild. I am fierce. I am honest. I am kind. I can be harsh. I am loud. I have passions. I love to laugh. Writing used to be my joy, and I’m trying to find it again. I am a wolf. I am beautiful. I love to drink. I love to cook. I love company. I love to read, paint, and dance. I am clumsy. I trip over my words. I am jealous. I am anxious. I am depressed.
I am so much more than I give myself credit for.
I have a purpose. I am supposed to love without fear, without regret. I am supposed to enjoy life. I am too young to be this bitter, to be this sad.
My life is not over. It’s only just begun.
So I am sure this is most likely a common problem for a lot of people, but my Wanderlust gets so bad sometimes that it makes me feel physically ill. I have massive panic attacks and I feel anxious and very trapped in one place. I am scared I am going to be stuck here. This isn’t where I want to be, but I am terrified of leaving everything I know behind. Packing up all my shit and leaving sounds wonderful but terribly frightening. The amount of fear I experience when I think about leaving the state just leaves me in a state of disarray.
What if I can’t find a job? What if I am stuck in some dead end job like the one I am in now? What if it’s the same shit, different place? Will I ever be satisfied? What if I can only afford some shitty apartment? The questions are endless. How do I even go about moving to another state?
This isn’t supposed to be this hard, right? Fuck that. It is. This is life. Everything is hard. That’s alright though, I am willing to work for it, if I can just get passed all of these damn insecurities. I will eventually surpass them. I have faith in myself. If I didn’t have faith in myself, I don’t think anyone else would.
Anyone in Denver, Colorado looking for a roommate? Any jobs available? I have years of retail and customer service experience.
I find myself in immense fear of being alone, but really I shouldn’t be afraid. If it’s meant to happen, it will be inevitable. That’s the brilliance of life. You can fight it, you can run from it, you can even alter it but eventually everything will fall into it’s rightful place. I’m just here to ride out the storm and hope for calmer waters. I’ll face monsters in these treacherous waters but I will not be defeated. I can not be defeated.
There are a lot of things I need to change. There are a lot of things I need to focus on. My writing being one of them. How will I ever write my book if I don’t sit down and try? I can complain and bitch and blame everything for my lack of focus, but at the end of the day I am the only one ruining my focus. I am my own worst enemy, my harshest critic, my own demon. I need to learn to fight harder and not things get the best of me. My demons don’t deserve the best of me. Only I deserve the best of me.
All the answers are in front of me, only they don’t look like answers at all. They all look like problems that I must sort through and figure out. It’s a step by step process that I have to complete. I’ll eventually get the hang of it.
Sometimes it’s critical that I remove myself from everyone. My mind gets clouded and I can’t think straight. It’s not for lack of wanting company or friendship, it’s wanting to escape the fog.
I just want to emerge a better person.
I spend my days thinking of all the ways I can escape the current life I am living in. I always hear ‘if you don’t like something, fix it or change it.’ It’s a constant preaching that I experience. How does one go about changing everything if they are so unsure about all that they do? Tell me, please. I really would love to know. I’ve been searching and have yet to figure anything out.
We all are now aware that I want to be a writer. It’s the only thing I think I am even remotely good at. I’ve thought about pursuing an education in Zoology. I’ve always liked animals better than people. Plus, I’d love to work with predators, since some of the people I know are scarier in mindset than Tigers or Wolves. Don’t take offense to that. I’m only giving you the reverence some of you deserve.
I’ve even thought about becoming a psychiatrist or psychologist. I would love to sit on a soft, plushy chair with a notebook and listen to someone spill their guts for me. I hear the crazy rate for that career is kind of high. I’m already crazy enough, listening day in and day out to someones problems might drive me to actual insanity. The field still fascinates me.
So I find myself still stuck in a dead end job after six years of slaving away for a company who is probably going to hell when it’s all said and done. I have other skills. I could do other jobs, I am just comfortable in what I do. I feel safe. I am terrified to take a jump into something different. I literally get so nervous when I even think about leaving my job. What if I fail? I shouldn’t be this scared, right? I’m just being silly, right?
I’m twenty-four years old and I am so done with everything. I don’t have a backup plan. I don’t even have a current plan. I should probably form some kind of plan, don’t you think? Where do I go from here? I’ll be twenty-five in five months and I have yet to do anything mildly important with my life. I want to be free, I want to be adventurous. I want to quit my job, pack up my shit and leave, but that only happens in books and movies. It isn’t real and in this economy it is virtually impossible.
So until I grow some courage, I’ll stay in my unhappy state and keep pouring my woes into my work.
Easy is Over Done.