Sometimes I Want To Give Up
Life has been... okay lately.
I'm in such a confused time in my life that it winds up driving me down a twisted, often bumpy road. As I'm writing this post, it's close to my bedtime, I'm tired and feeling pretty exhausted. I need to refresh my thoughts. Put my mind, body, and soul at ease. I've been so caught up in how many likes and comments I've been getting in social media it's literally taking the life out of my eyes. I mean, if you were to look at me right now, you might think I'm an actual zombie.
The truth is, when you're super passionate about something, like I am about this blog as a creative outlet for me, then it's really hard to have patience for it to be recognized. I'm investing so much time, money, and effort in this blog and so far, I haven't gotten the results that I wanted. Granted, I set very high practically unattainable goals for myself. I lack patience, I think that will be my word of the year in 2018.
I come from a small town, one where I never truly felt that I fit in. Maybe thinking that I was an outsider was all just an allusion in my head to isolate myself from others so that I would never be hurt again. My town has this post-card like vision of sorts, like a mash between the worlds of Gilmore Girls and Pretty Little Liars. People are successful and prosperous here. I have known wealth all my life but I have not been able to touch it, even though it's all around me. The Mercedes that drives by, the houses I walk past. Post card perfect. Of course the reality is that nothing is perfect, secrets lie beneath every life in this town, which is perfectly normal. However, I tend to live my life on the romantic side of things, viewing things with rose colored glasses, buying into a false reality that encourages jealousy. Why am I so afraid that these people in the idealization I have of my hometown, won't approve of me? Like it's some sort of society to be accepted into. I guess I'm just afraid of being a cliché: small town girl tries to become a blogger. Maybe it's only me that thinks this, and in the end all this pressure I've put on myself doesn't come from others, it comes from me. Because really they know nothing about me, what has built me, who has hurt me, why I've cried and I why I've laughed. Nor do they care. I guess I prefer it that way.
Sometimes The Desperation To Succeed Can Be Crippling.
Go don't stop. Rush no relaxing. That's how I feel and have felt most of my life. It has become a guilt trip to even try and relax. That's paralyzing. Reflecting is honestly the best thing I can do right now. I'm so lost sometimes, I need to find who I am again. This idea that style is a reflection of who I am is almost troubling because I could be so many things. I could fit into different aesthetics. Why do I have to stick to one? Sometimes I feel sexy and cool, other times I feel super goofy, and other times I feel like a complete failure. I can't just be one thing. Not right now at least, while I'm figuring my shit out.
I just did a whole lotta ranting, I hope it was entertaining.