There are so many things you can do with your life. You could be a pilot, a mathematician, an actress, or maybe sell shoes. You could be a lawyer, a police officer, or even a journalist. You could design clothes, or show them off, or make mind-blowing food worthy of an emperor's pallet. You could install windows, change locks, or you could help people during the worst times of their lives. We grow up being told we can do whatever we want to do. The sky is the only limit. The world is full of options. Of chances to be grabbed with both hands, and risks to be taken almost blindly. All you need is a little ambition.
At least that's what they want you to think. Then you grow up. You study something - maybe even something you shouldn't have, but it was fun (although pretty useless) so you did it anyway. And then - after you've graduated - you go: Now what? Then you have the loans, rent, tax, and maybe even possible new loans for more school. More tuition. Because you think you might have changed your mind. Question is: Have you? Or are you just scared? Of what is out there waiting for you. Of the world. Of yourself. Your potential.
Am I scared? Hell yes! I'm going through a holy-s**t-what-happened-to-me-where-am-I-going-stop-the-world-I-want-to-get-off kind of faze. I hate what I have turned in to. This terrified little creature. Scared of my own potential's reflection in the rear view mirror. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and hide from the world. And on many days that is exactly what I do. Because I can. I waste my time being scared. Hiding. What do I gain from this? Nothing. If anything - guilt. And more shame.
This isn't me, but at the same time it is. This is not the me people know, or the me that I'm proud of in any way or form. That me is goal oriented, always has a plan, is one step ahead, and knows exactly what to do and where to go to reach her goals. Nothing stands in her way. Ever.
What happened to her?
I miss her. I feel so hopeless without her. Like a complete looser of the worst kind. I feel below every beggar I have ever met. Combined. Tragic. Knowing that had they been in my shoes they would have taken on the world and lived every day. Loving it. But not me. Why?
Have I been hiding my true self? Do I have a dream I am not allowing myself to pursue? Or am I just plain scared of the world? Or is it a little bit of all of the above?
I don't know anymore. I don't know the answer to anything. I'm even starting to doubt who I am. I cry at least once a day. Sometimes - most of the time - I don't even know why. Then I'll go somewhere. Somewhere beautiful. And then I'll smile and be happy and appreciate the beauty. And then I'll be sad again. Or confused.
I am the most happy when I'm productive. Efficient. Doing something I deem "worth while". So why is it so hard for me to get up and do something that fits those criteria?
I don't know what to do. Where to go. Who I am. Where I belong.
I am lost. Please help find me. Bring me back. I need help. Don't let me make excuses. Hold me accountable. Get me out of here. Where ever "here" might be.
If anyone finds me, please return to sender.
