I’m always so down on myself. I don’t know why. I get depressed about random stuff. I feel like I’m always writing about depressing things…and that it should change to positive things. Unfortunately the depressing topics overshadow the good ones. I am appreciative of all the good things that I have in life. I really am…it could be so much worse for me…but it isn’t. I should write about the good things, right? I seem to thrive on the negativity. I honestly wish it was different. I’m not down 24/7, I’m not weeping and wallowing in pain all the time, I’m really not. I do smile, rarely, and I do laugh, often. I feel like I should enjoy life more…I always take everything so serious. I think that when I reach the end of my life, whenever that may be, I will probably regret not being happier.

Now that I’m doing (or starting to do) research for Grad School, I realize that I need guidance. I just hate the fact that everything is so stressful. Society has made everything so unbearable. We no longer have time to stop by the park and smell the flowers, and everything has been replaced by technology. It’s not bringing us together, it’s tearing us apart and isolating us more. I know I’ve said that many times, but I know it’s true. There is so much pressure to succeed…and yet, it’s so typical and ordinary. High school, college, grad school, average job, make money, die. There HAS to be more to life than that. HAS to be. I know there is…and I know that I have to find it. Everything is so fast paced, everyone promotes happiness, and god forbid you are the depressing one who expresses their thoughts in public or on facebook…people will immediately not like you and ostracize you. But in reality, everyone is depressed. Nobody is truly ever happy. Nobody will truly ever be 100% happy. I wonder when I’ll stop repeating myself, I feel like a broken record. I should laugh more, smile more, love more, LIVE MORE.

I think that it’s important to worry about things because I want to succeed…I want to make it. But at the same time, compulsive worrying is doing me in…slowly but surely.

I think it’s time I really turn things around. I have to. I’m slowly killing myself, and worrying is becoming a habit and some sort of sick addiction.

I’ll just end with this quote: “Worrying is like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do, but it gets you nowhere.”

I can do this…I can do this…I can do this. I’ve been through hell and back for someone who is 22. I can do this.