lately, i've been feeling like my life is a little bit stifling --- suppressed like the snug kind of fit provided by that extra sweater mom always made you wear but it just itched your neck. i find myself more negative than i am supposed to be; more negative than i want to be. i've noticed that i am using a lot of "i feel" in all of my sentences, a sure sign to me that i'm justifying the way that i feel by stating so.
it almost feels like a mid-life crisis. i'm in a mode of panic! i'm laughing at this because, what do you know? i'm only twenty-two years old and i have my life ahead of me. the more graduation looms ahead, the more i am afraid of the inevitable. i guess when you spend your life watching life around you go by, you trip on your own feet when you find yourself moving along with it. in this case, i feel swept along with the current.
i wake up in san diego, and some days it feels as if i have been picked up and placed here. how did i get here? why does my mind refuse to keep up with reality? i'm panicking and panicking. some days i wish i can press the fast forward button in my life, skipping ahead to where i'm settled with a family and a home i can call my own.
then i laugh. i may as well fast forward to my own death.
i'm being silly, i think. it's those moments in between the stages of life that build character; it's no wonder that i feel i've lost myself. this is why i'm blogging. i don't know what it is about a fresh new blog that quell's the yearning desire to be someone. perhaps it's like they say: blogging may be a form of narcissism, a belief that our own individual lives are important, that someone out there may find the glimpses into our lives fascinating and captivating enough to hang onto every post and word.
it's true: i have that affinity to define myself through labels, as most are apt to do. we are a female or a male, a college student or a doctor, a mother or a father, friend or foe ... cue in the list of hobbies we use as adjectives by the convenient use of er ... photographer, runner, knitter, singer, dancer, etc ... what is it about this need for an identity that trumps all else? i have my number one above all else; second to that, being 'judy' simple is not enough. even then, i can have multiple 'names' and still it could not describe me. don't get me wrong; i am not a deep thinker nor am just sitting on the sidelides, analyzing all the plays. i just wonder what compels me to be typing this post (for kicks, i'm typing in lowercase to be rebellious; punctuation drives me nuts when i'm not instant messaging).
some people rant. some people use it as a diary. others share their lives with loved ones. some people share ideas. what is my purpose?
dunno.
it almost feels like a mid-life crisis. i'm in a mode of panic! i'm laughing at this because, what do you know? i'm only twenty-two years old and i have my life ahead of me. the more graduation looms ahead, the more i am afraid of the inevitable. i guess when you spend your life watching life around you go by, you trip on your own feet when you find yourself moving along with it. in this case, i feel swept along with the current.
i wake up in san diego, and some days it feels as if i have been picked up and placed here. how did i get here? why does my mind refuse to keep up with reality? i'm panicking and panicking. some days i wish i can press the fast forward button in my life, skipping ahead to where i'm settled with a family and a home i can call my own.
then i laugh. i may as well fast forward to my own death.
i'm being silly, i think. it's those moments in between the stages of life that build character; it's no wonder that i feel i've lost myself. this is why i'm blogging. i don't know what it is about a fresh new blog that quell's the yearning desire to be someone. perhaps it's like they say: blogging may be a form of narcissism, a belief that our own individual lives are important, that someone out there may find the glimpses into our lives fascinating and captivating enough to hang onto every post and word.
it's true: i have that affinity to define myself through labels, as most are apt to do. we are a female or a male, a college student or a doctor, a mother or a father, friend or foe ... cue in the list of hobbies we use as adjectives by the convenient use of er ... photographer, runner, knitter, singer, dancer, etc ... what is it about this need for an identity that trumps all else? i have my number one above all else; second to that, being 'judy' simple is not enough. even then, i can have multiple 'names' and still it could not describe me. don't get me wrong; i am not a deep thinker nor am just sitting on the sidelides, analyzing all the plays. i just wonder what compels me to be typing this post (for kicks, i'm typing in lowercase to be rebellious; punctuation drives me nuts when i'm not instant messaging).
some people rant. some people use it as a diary. others share their lives with loved ones. some people share ideas. what is my purpose?
dunno.
No comments:
Post a Comment