I turn 42 in 2 days and I feel like hell.

because I’ve experienced a monstrosity of a weekend, of a month, of fuck it - YEARS - it feels like. I just have to say this though it’s not new and it’s been complained about before and will always be until some miracle comes.

“I’m so tired, I never thought I’d be this tired at 22 25. I don’t even know who to be anymore”

I’m incredibly tired. people always tell me I’m so young I should calm down and not freak out. that I’ve only been here for a little while, it’ll work out. well I disagree. I’ve been paying my dues since I can remember. I’ve been in New York practically since I was 19 working by myself juggling 3 gigs to make it here damnit and I deserve a reward. I’ve been carrying this weight of responsibility over my shoulders for so long now, I don’t think I can take anymore. I’m losing it too often, worrying too often, scraping by too often, failing too often and I see no resolution in sight. 

rules and the people that “make them” that you have to abide by are shit. I always said I’d rather live in a box in the city than stay at home. at this point I feel like a homeless person. the apartment is in plastic bags and boxes, and worn down, hand-me-down random pieces of shit. I feel no home, no attachment anymore there. I feel like I live alone 90% of the time, or some house wife who works, cleans, and cooks - day in, day out. this wasn’t what I imagined. this is harder than I imagined. this is more emotionally straining than I imagined. no one warned me about this.

I’ve got the career, why can’t my adult life catch up? why am I still suffering? how is everyone else just dealing? actually, I don’t know many people in my shoes. all of my friends it seems are doing VERY WELL and dandy and I’m the one friend who still has to check her bank account before she goes anywhere. I thought I’d have things set by now. I thought I’d be in a much better place, but it feels like I’m the same as I was years ago. no improvement, no hope. just riding the wave until something picks up for a little bit and planning for the next downfall. I don’t think it’s fair to live that way. I sometimes feel guilty for taking part in normal social activities - like a nice dinner with friends. that shouldn’t exist, but it does, very much so for me.

I want to be free of all of the anxiety I face on a regular basis. other people are fine, why  can’t that be me? and I’m always the one that says “fuck it, just do it anyway” but I know it’ll come back to bite me in the ass. but man there’s no other way, I just flee the scene when it all becomes too much to bear. 

and I hate being the person people rely on. I’m sick of being the Mama Bear for everyone. I have it hard enough but something, almost like a vomit reflex tells me to be nice and generous and offer a stepping stone, but almost immediately after I regret it. because rarely does it end up worthwhile for me. rarely do I get a thank you or some sort of compensation. I want to start saying “no” to everyone. and not feel bad about it.

and I don’t want to wait around anymore. change needs to happen NOW. why can’t it be now? when will things change? I’ve been waiting for years now. still nothing.

there’s nothing to do here but mope. it’s what I’m good at.

“all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses”

Notes (4)
  1. travelhighlights said: I don’t believe those numbers!
  2. semperidem said: Wait. 22, right? Not 42? If it’s 42, that changes everything, but I think it’s 22.
  3. thisisalisha posted this

this is what I write about now.

also: hbic . digital nomad . proud brooklynite . anthony bourdain spammer . travel geek

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