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December 2, 2010

So I asked myself today what I was living for (okay, then I wept, I’ll admit that I sobbed for a long, ugly time). As in, what is the reason I am alive right now? Why do I want to live on?  And it got all of these thoughts roiling that are unmistakably and more than slightly suicidal. I’d love to reassure you that I figured out why I should keep on living. I wish I could tell you that its all better because I figured it out, oh and I just happened upon the meaning of life and my true love along the way(yeah, and maybe the secret to perfect fudge-making too). If I could honestly tell you that its happily ever after from here on out I would. But I cannot. I have not gotten anything straightened out, I have no clue what to do with my precious life, or even if I am worthy of it.

I cannot figure out my life in a day. I might never figure it out at all. Maybe that is what I am afraid of–not feeling fulfilled. Or maybe that is precisely the reason why I do not think dying would be awful in the least–I do not want to be let down or I do not want to struggle and fail. I have always been scared of failing: in school, in performing, around my friends, at family gatherings, talking to God, etc. I  never want to let anyone down and I do not want to feel worse than I already do. I feel like I need to stop being so hesitant and scared. That fear kept me from getting a blog for I did not want to stop and never start blogging again after a month–I did not want it to just be a phase. That is why I made this blog. Not for my friends to read or to tell my daily activities, but to get my feelings out there in the middle of everything. To cure my fears, or die trying. I know nobody will probably read this, which is fine with me because these words do not need to be read just to be here.

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