Sometimes it’s hard facing the fact that I don’t have things together like I thought I would at this age. I’m not old (not necessarily; to a toddler or an elementary school kid I’m old as hell even though I’m only nineteen) but it still sucks realizing that the things I pictured myself doing at this age when I was fifteen or sixteen aren’t happening and the problems I’m dealing with right now came at me unexpectedly.
I think even people who knew me in high school or any age except for my age now would have speculated that I would have scholarships galore and be attending school out-of-state and living in a dorm and just getting shit done, but, in actuality, I’m just sitting in my room at my broken desk, taping up my used textbooks and wondering if anyone else has noticed how yellow the pages are in it.
I’m not as great as I thought I’d be. And it’s making me sad.
I want something more than what I’m doing right now and I want to stop worrying about money even though I’m pretty sure this will be a perpetual worry of mine. To make matters worse, I have extreme anxiety during the winter because I don’t know how to process the fact that the sun sets at 4 in the afternoon and it freaks me out that it’s dark so quickly. Every day it’s like I’m running out of time, racing against the sunset to get back home and lock myself up in my room while I pretend that I don’t notice the waning light that eventually turns my windows black. And it’s freaking cold.
The cold settled on Las Vegas over a single weekend with an icy wind that fleshed out goosebumps on my skin and seeped into my bones, stiffening them and cracking them whenever I tried to do something as simple as swipe the home screen on my phone to answer a call. Before this we had 80 degree weather and sunny skies and now everything sucks.
But at the same time, everything’s okay. I may sleep late and get up early because I’m drowning in school work, I may have a remarkably short temper and I lose it almost every day, and I may be so hounded down by my own thoughts and anxiety that I feel like throwing up because my panic attacks make everything dangerously tilted, but I’m okay.
I’ll catch up on sleep on the weekend. I’ll finish my assignments. I’ll get straight A’s this semester. I’ll go out with my friends to let loose and I’ll stay in with another to chill out. I’ll turn on the lights and I’ll bundle up to stay warm. Things may not be going as well as I thought they would, but they aren’t as bad as they could be, so I must not be doing as bad as I thought.