I don't know who I am today. And I don't mean that in a cool, mysterious way. I looked in the mirror this morning and I didn't recognize the face staring back. It looks like me, but it doesn't feel like me. It feels like a picture that got saved wrong on a computer.
My head is full of noise. Like a broken TV screen. Colors and static and thoughts that keep going and going but they don't make any sense. I have so many ideas, so many things I want to be, but when I try to catch them, they just fade away. Like a dream you wake up from and you can't remember anything except that it was good. Now I just feel empty. Like I was supposed to be something but I forgot the script.
I thought by 18 I would have it figured out. I thought I would be stepping into something big. But instead, I am just standing here. Stuck. Looking at my feet and realizing I am sinking. Not into quicksand or anything dramatic. Just into the regular mud of everyday life. The mud of waking up, going through the motions, and pretending everything is fine. But it's not fine. I'm sinking slowly and I don't know how to pull myself out.
The worst part is the shame. I know I should be doing more. Everyone around me is moving. They have goals, they have plans, they have friends who get them. And I just have this heavy chest and a brain that won't shut up. I feel so fucking tired of myself. I look at my own hands and I get annoyed. Like, why can't you just be normal? Why do you have to feel this much?
I want to scream but I don't have a reason to scream. Nothing really bad happened. And that makes me feel even more alone. Because how do you explain to someone that you are breaking inside when your life looks fine from the outside? It feels crazy. It feels like I am crazy. Like I am making all of this up in my head. But the loneliness is real. The ache in my chest is real.
I'm scared. I'm scared that this is just how life is now. A constant glitch. A constant fog. I am afraid that the me from two years ago is gone and the me now is just someone wearing their clothes, pretending to be them. I don't know where to find the finish line. I don't know if there even is a finish line. Maybe the finish line is fake. Maybe we are all just running for nothing.
I wish I could say I have hope. But hope feels like a luxury I can't afford right now. All I have is this moment. Stuck in the mud. Head full of static. Feeling completely alone in a room full of people.
I don't know where to begin. I don't know where the road is. I guess I'm just here. Broken. Waiting.
And maybe that's okay for today. Maybe the first step is just admitting that you are lost, even if your voice shakes when you say it out loud.