I’m writing this on my phone while laying in bed, so bear with me on this one. I probably won’t keep this up forever, but I feel like I need to vent out my feelings, and I’m somewhat of an attention whore (that’s right I admit it!), so instead of keeping this locked away in some personal diary, im going to upload it online to potentially thousands of people. Well here we go!

Tonight, I feel lost. I’m frustrated with my life, I’m frustrated with the people around me, and most of all, I’m frustrated with myself. Having come off a fairly productive week-followed by a very busy weekend-I was hoping that with this week I could just hop back into it, but I was mistaken. It’s funny because since Sunday, I could feel myself unraveling and knew that my focus would be off. The last couple of days were spent trying my best to keep up with my morning routine as best as I could and stay productive, which bore some mediocre results.

I found that I couldn’t write much of anything today. My mind was someplace elsewhere, far far away. To be fair, I don’t think I tried very hard to stay on task either. But that’s where my frustration mostly stems from. I feel so undisciplined. So unfocused. So unmotivated. I don’t think I’ve really grasped the severity of my situation because everything at the moment feels calm and comfortable. But I’m sinking. My heads above the water, I’m not yet gasping for air, but I am very much sinking and I’m not doing anything about it.

On nights like this, I often think of my older brother. He’s 43, no house of his own, no job, can’t see his son, and he’s basically given up on himself. He has a multitude of excuses and explanations, some valid, some not so much, but definitely nothing to show for himself. I often wonder what he dreamed of doing when he grew up, if he also had a passion that kept him up at night, that he beat himself up over for not taking seriously enough, for not succeeding. I think about what could have possibly happened for his life to go on the course that it did, and if there are any parallels to my own. I’m scared that there are. I fear that I too will one day be hidden away in the basement of a sibling’s home, wondering where all the years went and where it all went wrong. I fear that everyone will pass me up, looking down on me and giving me no respect because I didn’t make a living or a name for myself. I’m scared that will one day by me. I’m hoping that it isn’t.