7,300 days

I’ve been alive for two decades now. I’ve gone through so much in that short time.
I’ve done so many things I regret doing.
I’ve met so many people. Some of which I’ve been friends with for over half my life. I’m so grateful for having met these people and being able to interact with them on a daily basis. I’m also grateful for the people I no longer interact with (i.e, any of my exes or close friends that I drifted away from). Despite whatever happened between myself and those people, I still had great moments with them that I continue to look back on.

But I really don’t want to continue. I have no motivation to go out and make something of my life. I’d much rather stay in my house and waste my days looking at screens. But I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this.

Ten years ago, I was a completely different person. I was a happy go lucky ten year old who was always running around outside all day long. I was eager to meet new people, never shying away for very long. I slowly starting to barricade myself from others for multiple reasons. I resorted to completely ignoring or avoiding most people. I’d put on a facade for my teachers and friends. Now, I fear the thought of even being seen by strangers. I fear their ridicule. Something as simple as walking across the street to pick up a pizza is frighting to me.

I should be celebrating my time on this planet, but I’m too busy keeping myself locked away. Too busy complaining on a blog I never use and making myself sound like a thirteen year old in the process. After all, I only use this to vent.

At least next year I can follow in my parents’ footsteps and develop an alcohol addiction

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