dear life: what happened?
Sometimes i have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going with my life, and I hate it.
I'm currenly at University, studying all the things that I (supposedly) love - and i'm not enjoying it at all. These are meant to be the best years of my life and at the moment, I just want to press fast forward. It's like a movie i've never seen before, and I'm at a really dull part and so I skip the scene, not knowing what comes next. What if the next scene's even worse? Everything just seems so boring. Nothing excites me anymore. I just feel heavy and tired and aimless. All my friends have plans; they know where they're going and who they're going with and when they're going to stop and head out into the real world as adults.
And I got nothing. Seriouly, I have no freaking clue.
I have no idea what I want to do for a career, where I want to live or even if I want to keep studying. I'm considering dropping out and god isn't that awful? To have wasted nearly an entire year, just to think in August 'I fucking hate this'. So I go and look at Au Pair websites and Gap Year websites - and I don't like the look of that either. I don't particularly want to work with kids. Which is even better, because at the moment the only thing I can think to do with the Arts degree I'm meant to be studying towards is fucking teaching.
I was looking at an essay that I was meant to hand in three days ago, trying to bring myself to type it and I thought to myself - this shouldn't be this hard. I'm meant to enjoy this. I'm at university; isn't the whole point of university to have a good time with friends and to immerse yourself in something you love doing?
Because that's not what's happened to me. I get along with people, sure - but I don't have any best friends here. They're all off, doing their thing whilst I just sit here and try to force myself to write about a subject that, half a year ago, I could have written pages on.
Right now I've got 77 words.
And they're not even very good.
(scrap that; they're fucking awful. Like, really, really bad. Like, something you'd see in middleschool).
I feel worried and stressed all the time. And if I don't, I'm only ok. My whole life is one great big 'meh'. I'm never just happy anymore - I can't remember the last time I laughed at something and it didn't feel scripted - like I was laughing because that's the correct response. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard I cried and my stomach hurt. I used to laugh all the time; it's what I love so much about my friends (yes, the one's with the plans). Because I'm writing like they're all very serious people - and they're not. They're bloody ridiculous. Last year one of them kidnapped me as a joke and the others stood and laughed as I was dragged across the schoolyard. We used to tell stupid jokes until we couldn't breath from laughing. And I haven't done that in a very, very long time. The littlest thing will set me off - I'll be absolutely okay one moment and then, all I want to do is go hide alone in my room, waiting for my now invisible friends to hug me. Our group was a very touchy-feely group at school. We'd sit all over each other at lunch; boys and girls alike. It was nice. I knew them - as cliche as it is, we went through hell and back together.
I don't have any friends like that now. No one i'm that comfortable with; no one I can hug simply because I feel like it, no one I can fall asleep on their should, no one who'll tip the couch I fall asleep on just for a laugh. I miss being able to hug them whenever I feel like it. I miss not being beaten down by every little thing, again and again.
It's like every time I finish an assignment or get over something that's pissed me off, another something falls into place. Another assignment on a subject I used to be interested in. Another deadline to worry over. Another moment where I swear and curse and cry because it shouldn't be this difficult to write a fucking 1200 word essay. Another moment where I let the deadline pass because I can't bring myself to care. And I want to care, I really do. This is my future. I want a future. I just don't know how to get it without feeling like I'm being forcefed molten glass. I'm spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on a future that I can't picture, on an education that I can't bring myself to care about and on someone that I don't want to be. I don't want to be this person.
I want to travel, and meet people, and make a difference in people's lives. I want to write about things I love and I want to paint and most of all I just want to be happy.
And I'm not. I'm really, really not. I'm bored and sad and feel heavy and useless and constricted and I don't know why. I don't know what I should do, or where I should go. I'm being pathetic and emo and I fucking hate it, but that's just to god damn bad because what else can I do?
I want a plan. One that I actually want. One that will work for me, because nothing else will.
I'm currenly at University, studying all the things that I (supposedly) love - and i'm not enjoying it at all. These are meant to be the best years of my life and at the moment, I just want to press fast forward. It's like a movie i've never seen before, and I'm at a really dull part and so I skip the scene, not knowing what comes next. What if the next scene's even worse? Everything just seems so boring. Nothing excites me anymore. I just feel heavy and tired and aimless. All my friends have plans; they know where they're going and who they're going with and when they're going to stop and head out into the real world as adults.
And I got nothing. Seriouly, I have no freaking clue.
I have no idea what I want to do for a career, where I want to live or even if I want to keep studying. I'm considering dropping out and god isn't that awful? To have wasted nearly an entire year, just to think in August 'I fucking hate this'. So I go and look at Au Pair websites and Gap Year websites - and I don't like the look of that either. I don't particularly want to work with kids. Which is even better, because at the moment the only thing I can think to do with the Arts degree I'm meant to be studying towards is fucking teaching.
I was looking at an essay that I was meant to hand in three days ago, trying to bring myself to type it and I thought to myself - this shouldn't be this hard. I'm meant to enjoy this. I'm at university; isn't the whole point of university to have a good time with friends and to immerse yourself in something you love doing?
Because that's not what's happened to me. I get along with people, sure - but I don't have any best friends here. They're all off, doing their thing whilst I just sit here and try to force myself to write about a subject that, half a year ago, I could have written pages on.
Right now I've got 77 words.
And they're not even very good.
(scrap that; they're fucking awful. Like, really, really bad. Like, something you'd see in middleschool).
I feel worried and stressed all the time. And if I don't, I'm only ok. My whole life is one great big 'meh'. I'm never just happy anymore - I can't remember the last time I laughed at something and it didn't feel scripted - like I was laughing because that's the correct response. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard I cried and my stomach hurt. I used to laugh all the time; it's what I love so much about my friends (yes, the one's with the plans). Because I'm writing like they're all very serious people - and they're not. They're bloody ridiculous. Last year one of them kidnapped me as a joke and the others stood and laughed as I was dragged across the schoolyard. We used to tell stupid jokes until we couldn't breath from laughing. And I haven't done that in a very, very long time. The littlest thing will set me off - I'll be absolutely okay one moment and then, all I want to do is go hide alone in my room, waiting for my now invisible friends to hug me. Our group was a very touchy-feely group at school. We'd sit all over each other at lunch; boys and girls alike. It was nice. I knew them - as cliche as it is, we went through hell and back together.
I don't have any friends like that now. No one i'm that comfortable with; no one I can hug simply because I feel like it, no one I can fall asleep on their should, no one who'll tip the couch I fall asleep on just for a laugh. I miss being able to hug them whenever I feel like it. I miss not being beaten down by every little thing, again and again.
It's like every time I finish an assignment or get over something that's pissed me off, another something falls into place. Another assignment on a subject I used to be interested in. Another deadline to worry over. Another moment where I swear and curse and cry because it shouldn't be this difficult to write a fucking 1200 word essay. Another moment where I let the deadline pass because I can't bring myself to care. And I want to care, I really do. This is my future. I want a future. I just don't know how to get it without feeling like I'm being forcefed molten glass. I'm spending thousands upon thousands of dollars on a future that I can't picture, on an education that I can't bring myself to care about and on someone that I don't want to be. I don't want to be this person.
I want to travel, and meet people, and make a difference in people's lives. I want to write about things I love and I want to paint and most of all I just want to be happy.
And I'm not. I'm really, really not. I'm bored and sad and feel heavy and useless and constricted and I don't know why. I don't know what I should do, or where I should go. I'm being pathetic and emo and I fucking hate it, but that's just to god damn bad because what else can I do?
I want a plan. One that I actually want. One that will work for me, because nothing else will.