It kept me up at my best. Or at least what felt like my best. My life was moving up and I didn’t see a drop. The anxiety was from was trying to impress my peers. My biggest stressor was having too many options. The fear was being too comfortable. The problem at night was getting too much sleep. That’s why it kept me up.
Don’t let me fool you I am not homeless, hungry, or sick. All of those things are much more respectable than where I am. I quit school, a great opportunity, and three good jobs. So I have no right to complain and I won’t. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy about how life is now. My parents are the best, but that only makes me feel worse.
It’s Not That Bad
Imagine just getting good at what you do and becoming a part of what you love. Imagine making good money and having a decent career. Then imagine having the first part thrown away for you and throwing away the second on your own. Your parents now beg you to take $20 before you go anywhere “in case you get hungry”. It breaks my heart to think I broke their faith in me. I feel alone even with a home full of people and 567 Facebook “friends”.
Okay, But You’re Still Alive!
I am still breathing. So all of that sad stuff will be in the prologue of my autobiography. Now is the four page intermission where I have an epiphany that kicks off chapter one of the rest of my life. Yes, if I have an autobiography it will not only have intermission sections it will need them. Clearly my writing gets tiresome to a reader.
It‘s keeping me up at my worst. Or at least what feels like my worst. My life just took a dive and I realized it really is a rollercoaster. The anxiety is from failing myself and those around me. My stress is not having any clear path. The fear is dying a lonely asshole. The problem at night is not sleeping at all. I use the coffee to kickstart my lazy ass to do something about it.
I find songs that assist the writing because it gives it more atmosphere. Words on a page tend to lay flat. It’s like a film with no score, it lacks presence and depth. Although it may speak to my lack of writing ability and my short attention span for reading.