“You can see LAX from her new dorm room and she doesn’t mind! Abby loves living down there and the fact that she’s been doing so good, I’m just so proud of her!”
I hate this. It’s two in the afternoon and I haven’t done one productive thing today. And now, I’m forced to sit next to a group of rightfully delighted mothers talk about how well their daughters are doing in their universities and internships and apprentices. So yes, I’m bitter. I’m bitter because this is me. This is it. An underachiever. A background character. A kid who tries, just never hard enough. I can feel the wrinkles on my forehead grow but I’m starting to care less and less. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Too much self pity? Self loathing? Victimization? Maybe I’m working just enough to keep me exactly where I’m at. Maybe subconsciously I don’t want to do better. Or maybe deep down I don’t feel like I deserve to do better… Or maybe that’s the depression talking? Am I convincing myself that I don’t deserve better? That I’m unfit? Lazy? Undesirable? Who knows… It could be the anxiety… The fear of not being good enough stopping me from ever trying. The fear of others being better making me quit before I even begin. The fact that the majority of my life right now is basically a lie and that I have no solid home or any kind of consistency with work probably doesn’t help either. It’s just like when are things going to ease up a little?
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