I'm moving home in five days. I feel tired and exhausted of being so lonely and trying to hide it with my stupid, "I'LL ONLY BE SUCCESSFUL IF I STAY IN A BIG CITY" attitude. And maybe, for what I (thought) I want to do, that's true. But again I'm so young still. University didn't work out, at least not now, and I can't stop these stupid thoughts in my head about how easier it would be if I wasn't even here to have to decide what to do with my life. Now I know what some people mean when they say suicide is a coward's way out. It sounds easier than having to take responsibility for things, that's for sure. And I'm not even positive where these thoughts came from or if I'm just being over dramatic, but they creep up when I think about how I'm the youngest kid in the family with all these expectations on my shoulders. My oldest brother went to college, has a career in something he enjoys and is good at and makes good money, is married and has a baby on the way. My second oldest brother didn't go to college but he's got a full time job in something he enjoys, working at a car dealer ship. I can relate to him the most because he had the same struggles I do. He's still living at home but saving money. So now my parents look at me and say, "Ashley will either end up successful like Zach or living at home at 26 like Tyler."
From when I was like seven years old I knew I wanted to be a writer, and I guess it's my fault for going around and screaming that to the world. It was the only possible "career" for me and so I never succeeded in maths or sciences, never bothered to look into other careers even involving writing. I was dead set on English at Carleton University and when I got there I realized, wow, I really don't like what I'm studying. I discovered I like feminism and women's studies. I found out I'm interested in politics, world issues and not only writing but in an open minded sense, things that are happening outside of Canada. So the feelings of doubt crept in, it's too late to change my mind, it's useless because I'm not good at anything, not even writing. I wrote a story of 50,000 words called "Banana Pancakes" when I was fourteen and it got good feedback online from other kids my age. This, to me, meant I should be a writer. And maybe I should. But there are better writers out there, who deserve a book deal more than I do. I haven't written anything but lame fanfiction and blog posts for the past three years. I have no ideas for stories. What is it, a loss of interest or long-term writer's block?
So, moving home is my only option right now. I can work and try to save money, focus on eating healthy and working out, be with my family and friends, and just try to start over. From now on I have the attitude that my life starts right now. I should've taken a gap year after high school, because after being in school for 14 years of my life, maybe university right away was not the smartest thing to do. Or maybe it was. Who knows.
For now I'm living in the moment. And that moment is: jesus christ I should take off my makeup. I slept with it on, yuck.
Current Music: Boy - Little Mix