SAD
I was hoping to express my current agonies by metaphorical means; however, I haven't been able to write creatively lately. Sadly, I can't even listen to those two words without a knot forming in my stomach. Creative Writing. It's what I have signed up for, but somedays I don't know if I truly want to be known as a Creative Writing major: I have no idea what I will do. I've lived my entire life, basically, insecure. I have no faith in who I am, I continue to ask myself the same questions everyday, and I am slowly beginning to lose it. I have no idea who I am anymore. And all of this seems strange when just last summer I was feeling, for the most part, the best I've ever felt. I was confident in my writing, confident in my decision to choose Creative Writing as a major, and confident to be me. Unfortunately, as the holidays came and went, and a new semester began, I've lost everything. I can't even drive anymore. I freak out. Even after I make stops, even after I look a dozen times left and right, I still question. I need reassurance. Always, for if I don't have it, I worry. Worry, worry, worry, all day and night. Until so many knots have been tied, I can only go to bed and hope for a new day.
Driving may be part of the problem, but it is by far not all of it. I worry about school. I worry about whether I can get through this semester and SVSU. I was freaking out last Sunday because of a paper due the next day. Clearly, I was over-reacting for the paper didn't really need to be done. I feel I have four classes, when, in fact, I have two. And, of course, there is one number that scares me more than anything. 22. I'm worried about my age; perhaps I'm too old to be at home., but I can't imagine living anywhere else. I miss my story. I miss Sera. I wish I could add on to that story. I wish I could give Sera friends, family, and town, a village. If only creativity would spark once again as it seems to do.
Driving, school, work, family, friends, career, life, death, and a whole list of others. If I'm not worrying about one, I surely worry about the other. And above all of this, I'm tired of being alone. I've spent most of my life without the, without...
I can't even really say.
I dream far too much, yet it's all I really have.
Driving may be part of the problem, but it is by far not all of it. I worry about school. I worry about whether I can get through this semester and SVSU. I was freaking out last Sunday because of a paper due the next day. Clearly, I was over-reacting for the paper didn't really need to be done. I feel I have four classes, when, in fact, I have two. And, of course, there is one number that scares me more than anything. 22. I'm worried about my age; perhaps I'm too old to be at home., but I can't imagine living anywhere else. I miss my story. I miss Sera. I wish I could add on to that story. I wish I could give Sera friends, family, and town, a village. If only creativity would spark once again as it seems to do.
Driving, school, work, family, friends, career, life, death, and a whole list of others. If I'm not worrying about one, I surely worry about the other. And above all of this, I'm tired of being alone. I've spent most of my life without the, without...
I can't even really say.
I dream far too much, yet it's all I really have.