I always need movement forward as a sign of my progress in life. I get six piercings but it’s not enough. I write one story but if I’m not sending it to the publishers it doesn’t feel as gratifying.  I drink but even drunk I don’t have the confidence to make lifelong friends. Never do I make enough progress. I can’t look behind me dare I lose a step. It’s always going to be unhealthy thinking. I have never been as hard on anyone as I have been on myself in these last few years. My friends see this. I think that’s why they treat me so carefully. Whatever criticism they have for me I’ve made towards myself a hundred times.

Every second I’m not writing is a second wasted in my eyes. I’ve already wasted so much time. When I was a child this was the time that I was a nationally acclaimed writer with my life in order. Just thinking about that has me shaking my head hard, swallowing down the tightness in my throat. I’m working in a supermarket. I am living at home. I have a half finished book. I have never won a competition. I just ended a shitty relationship and am now flirting with even shittier people. I can’t drink without vomiting. Are these the golden years I am supposedly supposed to travel around in and have maddeningly amazing sex with strangers? Am I supposed to be able to afford that or allow my anxiety to release its strangling hands on me to even trust a stranger like that? HA! Twenty first century doesn’t let the idyll dream take off the runway before it hits the ground in flames.

I don’t know what I am going to do. If you’re out there and you’re experiencing the same thing I can only offer my sympathies. Sometimes I think the only cure is simply to rebel in the hardest form but I’m twenty two, the awkward age in which if you take the escapist route you neither seem like troubled youth or soul-searching adult: you seem like a whiny tit who still lives with their parent.

From now on I’ll try write everyday. I will document my progress (and if I don’t I’ll have a panic attack because I’m not working on my life projects bla bla bla) on this.

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