Younger me truly believed with all her heart that she would be able to make a living by doing something she loved. That at the end of the day all that matters is being happy as you go to bed at night. That the world is fair and things do work out in the end. Not much has changed today, even though it feels like nothing is the same and probably, never will be.
It’s not like the world has changed dramatically, it’s just me who is starting to know it a little better. There are good days and there are bad days, but they all end on a note of hopelessness. The dread of not knowing what is to come next overpowers everything. It is overwhelming. Not in a good way.
A few years ago, I made a plan, albeit subconsciously. I knew what I wanted and I did everything in my power to achieve those goals. However, what I didn’t realise was that when I were to reach that finish line, I would have to find a new set of hoops to jump through. Maybe the reason for this was that I expected that I would be able to get through my goals at all. But I did.
So, here I am, sitting with possibly everything I can want and yet clueless to what path to tread next. What would take me closer to the things I wish to achieve? Scratch that. What do I wish to achieve at all? If the younger me could see me now, I wonder what she would feel. Despair, I guess.
Now I just got to sponge off some of her resilience and get my act together.