This will be long and probably won't make sense to anyone else but me but I need to write it all down, my skin feels like it's actually itching because this has been playing on my mind for so long. My life right now feels as though I am walking into an abyss of the unknown and I'm terrified. You know that guy I was talking about from the last chapter, I called things off. I'm not ready for big commitments and changes to my life because I am so comfortable where I am right now. I like living in this world where I hang out with friends and work isn't the main thing on my mind, and I don't have to think quite yet about university because it's still a while away... right?
In my mind I'm still thirteen. I'm still just some kid who doesn't understand anything in this world but wants to give it all a go. I wish I hadn't wished to grow up so quickly because I find myself here in a state of panic because I don't know where to go. It's like someone has driven you to the middle of nowhere and then left you without a map to find where you're going. I don't know if I'm good enough to do English anywhere at university, I can barely spell normal words and my vocabulary seems to consist of swear words. I want so badly to go back.
There are too many things to think about once. On the one hand there's school and this infinite amount of pressure I put on myself to be constantly improving and working but I never seem to get to the level I want to be at. Then there's this new wave of social expectation, to have a boyfriend, to have sex, to go clubbing with fake IDs which I don't have, to be shown to be doing something with your life. Then there's family, and the ever growing strain and distance between myself and my mother who never seems to understand this pressure which I feel constantly under. I can't just have a chill day because in my mind that's a failure both educationally and socially. I have to always be doing things.
There's this pressure to read everything in the world like it will disappear in a few days, and I now have over 200 unread books on my shelf when I used to have only one or two. I hate what I've become sometimes because while on the outside I probably look like I'm coping and everything is alright, inside I'm barely above water. The stress becomes so much that I can't answer my emails, I can't answer my inbox here, I can't upload chapters even when I have time to write them, and I can't get too close to anyone new. I don't have time.
I don't know where I'm going and that terrifies me. Where will I be next year? Did I guess I would be where I am last year? What will the future hold? I just wish I could know, just to prepare myself. Will I go where I want to?
