These past few months have been difficult…
Well I thought everything was doing okay for me. Until I started to experience feelings that I never knew I had. These were emotions that I never thought I had the extent of. I had fear, loneliness, frustration, worry, sadness…
and it keeps going on..I would push the fact that I had these feelings because I have always deal with them. And since I started living alone in austin, it thats when I came aquatinted with what I was feeling. I was not as happy with what I was doing in college, and also my performance in my classes. Especially my music classes, which scared me. I would question myself over and over, Was I good enough? I felt small and I am literally small. I felt horrible somedays, and other days I felt okay. But I started experiencing small moments of panic attacks which have never happened to me. I would get them even at the times I would try to make myself feel relaxed. But they would always come back to me, at the moments I wanted to be happy. I wouldn’t let myself be happy. My mind would stop me. And I have grown to sick of myself for feeling that way. No one should feel unhappy.
But I lost something. My enjoyment in what I loved. Singing. It is not the same anymore since my break down. I started to not enjoy anything really, and would not be apart of my friends or make friends, or continue last interactions. And I wouldn’t try hard anymore. I thought what’s the point? When I do try hard enough and results come as a disaster, I end up disappointed that even when I am positive and confidence, it feels pathetic that it ends to crap. Maybe I might be too hard on myself. After all, Im not the only one going through this, many people my age are going through this, were just quiet about it. And that makes me feel a bit better about myself. Also, I have the tendency to think and worry about other people than myself. I do nothing about it except think and think and think, until nothing gets done.
So of course due to the way I have been, I want to fix it.
However, I was not alone in my mess. There was always that one person that I confided in. This person is always there for me and always helped me. But what I hated is how much of a burden I felt. I wanted to share most happy memories rather than me being miserable as I wanted to, I wanted that to change. I didn’t want that person to worry for me, because I care about them. And I needed to change. I talked about this to another person who has always been in my life and they understood. They went through the same thing when they were my age. She understood what I was going through, and knew exactly how I thought. It was our quiet kindness that overpowered us. We were sensitive and patient, which is sometimes not a great quality to have for every conflict and adversary. But she told me to think for myself. To start doing what I loved and to not give a shit what people say. Meet people and grow through them, be alone if I want to be. Be with others if I wanted to be. And importantly, to know that there is always someone there for me.
There’s no other way to solve my problem except to start trying again. That is why I started writing. I feel that when I get my thoughts on paper, I feel more relived. Uncluttered from the many emotions that pass by me. I missed writing last year, I wouldn’t write creatively or in my Journal as much as I used to. With that factor gone, i realized that my mind was in a mess. I could not be expressive. I held it in and thought it over and over rather than placing it in a place I could forget or reflect. I added english to my major so I can try to discover and expand something that I love: Literature. Of course i will stick to my music major, I love music and I want to give myself another try. But on my part I need to get up from being degraded and to work hard for myself. Just get your shit done, and hopefully things will fall into place.
When I think about this I feel that I’m stupid and complaining. But it’s normal.
Do what you want to do.