ellebeesee:

I don’t really get why we do it all. What the need is, what void we’re all trying to fill. Because we all do it. I do it. We all take on things we think we’ll enjoy, and then can’t seem to drop. Telling ourselves we have to push through, follow through, prove to ourselves it can happen, even though who really cares if it does.

I picked a single weekend to get my obligations for “work” out of the way. A full 48 hours watching over a building of entitled, naive, overprivileged 19 - 20 year olds, who call themselves adults, but behave like toddlers. Which for the perks, and the general fulfillment I get out of it, is well worth it. But it’s also screwing me out of spending time with three of my closest friends. A lot of time. This job is all about being a role model, and being visible, and approachable. But sometimes I feel like it’s completely isolating. 

Beyond all that, and my current unbelievable urge to sob, everything just seems like so much now. I’m pretty sure second semester seniors, who are already into graduate schools, aren’t supposed to worry about anything. But this has been an absurdly stressful time anyway. 

It’s the frailty of it all. I’ve convinced myself that every option I have will lead to an outcome. What will happen with the rest of my life if I go to this school, live in that city, visit this friend, eat that many calories, spend this amount of time in the gym. Everything lies on something, and as a girl who used to be perfectly okay with just not knowing, I am now paralyzed by the future. And what happens if I go somewhere and expectations are unmet? In the back of my head I know I will make the best of everything. But right now, sitting in my bed at 1 am on a Friday night I am utterly petrified. 

I’ve been haunted by all my what ifs, numbers on a scale, jean sizes, what people think of me, if my friends really care at all, when things will fall into place. I relinquish myself to a paranoia that is so unreasonable even as I’m in it, I’m aware it’s absurd.

I know I worry people. But right now, quietly sobbing to songs that stir up memories from another life, I’m terrified of myself.