Gaht damn. Every time I come back to this website it's completely different.
I turn 24 in about ten days. I'm getting older. Every year seems to go by faster and faster. I feel like I'm still in the same place. I know I've changed, incrementally, but it feels like I'm still an 18-year-old trauma survivor who has no fucking clue what she's doing, personally, professionally, or just in general.
My anxiety has only gotten worse with age. Same with the depression. I'm medicated now, which I suppose should be making a difference. Maybe it is. I don't know. All I know is that I'm either crying uncontrollably, unable to get out of bed, or so anxious and restless I want to self-destruct. Neither state of mind is ideal for being a productive member of society. Maybe my real issue is that I don't want to be a productive member of society - half the time I don't even want to exist, and the other half I'm so fed up with societal expectations like having a job and not being a total waste of space that I'm just pissed off. People will tell you over and over again to find the things that matter to you in order to combat mental illness, but I don't even know what matters to me anymore. I just smoke a shitton of weed and wait for the day to end.
I don't even "worry" about things anymore, not the way I used to when I was younger. I don't bother naming my anxieties because I know they're all bullshit. I'm not worried about anything in particular - just constantly fucking worried. When that cycle is done, I'm so exhausted and drained that I don't have the energy to shower, let alone go out and seize my dreams or whatever-the-fuck I'm supposed to do as an empowered, "good" crazy person.
I'm a little bitter today. This is probably not the best reintroduction to dA, but y'know. I'm grasping at straws here. I need something. I don't know what it is. I've never known what it was. Apparently this is the feeling that drives everyone else on the planet. This is the feeling that inspires people to move, to create, to be something. All it makes me want to do is crawl into a hole and hide.
I am supposed to be getting better about engaging with life. I used to be able to sit in a crowded place and find stories to comfort me. I'd make up things about the people around me, or I'd just start dreaming and write what came to me. At some point, I started hiding instead. I've gone so internal that only one or two people really know how to bring me out. I don't feel like myself, but I also don't know how I'm supposed to feel. I avoid, avoid, avoid - any and every thing that makes me uncomfortable, I will try as hard as I can to find a way out of it. Or I just sleepwalk through.
I need to get in touch with my creativity again, but that's been true for years. I have a billion things I need to do to be better. No energy or drive to actually make that happen, though.
Regardless, dA is most likely going to become what it once was for me, a long time ago - a place to rant, to vent, to just let my thoughts be what they are again. Maybe I'll figure out a way to write in the meantime.