With a lot of free time spent in isolation, I've been blogging much more lately than I have all semester. It would be nice if not for all the anxiety gnawing at the back of my head. What for? I'm not sure, but I think it has something to do with the ever present threat of inadequacy.
Can I accept that I don't have it all figured out? Can I accept that I've acknowledged my negativity but it's not something I can fix overnight? Will I ever come to terms with the concept of my mediocrity, that I am, perhaps, not meant to be effervescent?
I can suffer from everything my anxiety throws at me, but at the end of the day, it's still my responsibility to do something about it. I am accountable for taking care of myself. As much as I wish someone can fix things for me, it's not going to happen.
My dissatisfaction with my internship. My frustration at being alone. My uncertainty about my future. These are all things that only I have the power to change. Yes, these are areas of my life that I feel inadequate in, but they do not last forever.
I'm nineteen and I'm on fire — still young and chock full of potential and opportunities and the overwhelming desire to do good things. The last sweet dregs of teenage glory dry up in less than a month: why did I ever waste a second of it feeling helpless? ◊
No comments:
Post a Comment