I don’t know what most people think of me really these days.
They think I’m always home these days, enjoying spending time doing nothing. Content that way. In truth, I’m living with a lot of restlessness, moodiness, anxiety and alltheworks.
I worry that I will never find it either. I vacillate between wanting to do something I sorta’ like, and chiding myself for being childish and stupid and I should just be “grown-up”
There is something wrong with my preference to keep my worries to myself. All I can voice out is that I’m feeling moody, and feeling frustrated. I feel helpless to explain the whys and the hows of it all. It’s like no words could come.
Like this moody/anxious/worried feeling just envelopes me, and when asked to account for the reasons, an empty thought balloon appears over my head. Why is it that life seems simpler in my parents’ time? You go to school, you finish school and get a job, you settle down when you find the right man, you get your own place, you have children, you raise them.
I haven’t reached many big milestones in my life and yet all I’m filled with is worry and anxiety. And this constant feeling that I haven’t found what is it that I’m looking for. Not that I even know what I’m looking for.