Work, work, work. Fail, fail, fail.
I work so much. Too much. And what do I have to show for it? Failure…some more crows feet and a boat load of stress. Money? Nope. Why? Because every time, it seems, I attain a certain goal - an amount of money - something happens that forces me to lose it. A night in the hospital, $2,800. A fender bender. $933. A speeding ticket. A parking ticket. Help pay for this, help pay for that. This, that, the other thing. Ugh.
I question myself, and wonder why I opted out of school. I’m so intelligent, and talented, yet part of me feels like it’s useless, as throughout my life, every time I’ve worked toward something, a natural occurrence takes place to void it all out. To void out my hard work. So what’s the point?
No, this isn’t just because of money; but it is acting as a catalyst of some sort. Yeah, who doesn’t need more money? But it’s just an exemplification of my life - work hard, get no where. So…do I continue to work? Or should I live passively and let whatever happen, happen? My issue is - I’m a worker. I was raised to work, and always taught to work hard. If I’m not working hard, I’m not working hard enough, and I have an internal critic for being lazy. Like an internal time bomb of guilt, waiting to explode at any given moment.
I’m ranting and running in circles, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s my blog, not yours.
The biggest issue I have with this whole thing….I’m 18. I’m a baby. I shouldn’t have to worry about these kind of things…yet, I have to, and I do.
I think I just need a hug.
