I haven’t been able to do a lot of the things I’ve been wanting to do because I’ve made very new, drastic life decisions that have altered the path I thought I was supposed to be on. At first I was okay with the changes, because I thought studying more would move me forward. However, it turns out that I just feel even more suffocated.
I find that I do not write anymore. I used to write every day for as long as I could remember. Lately, the routine has just been, study, work, ultimate frisbee. It’s infuriating because I can’t seem to get out of this rut, I don’t exactly see where my studying is going to take me. I feel pretty confident in my abilities; hopefully, anyway, because GREs are on Friday. I found inspiration from my life, but right now there is none. I only write this out of the sheer agony of being so damn bored, which has thus “inspired” me, for the lack of a better term.
The point is very simple, I feel lost, confused, and bottomless. What I mean by bottomlessness is that this rut that I’m in only seems to get further, deeper, and more infinite than anything I’ll ever understand. It is maddening and I feel like it’s eating at little pieces of me, like a intermittent proclivity. What is happening to me? This sounds a lot more depressing than I mean for it to be; it’s not supposed to be depressing. I’m mostly banking on this being a wake up call for me. Maybe if I write, even about this, I won’t feel so trapped in my own body. It’s nice because it’s not as though I’m spilling my secrets out to a specific anybody. I’m spewing generalistic information that perhaps people can relate to. Then, maybe I won’t feel so alone.