Moving

I’ve lived in the same house for my entire life — 18 years.

Today my parents accepted an offer on our house. It means that it’s real, that I’m actually going to be moving somewhere. A chalet bungalow. I don’t want to leave this house. I really don’t. It’s terrifying, the thought of never being in it again… the house I spend most of my days in, all of my nights in.

Why do I have to leave it?

My heart is crumbling, piece by piece, because this is the house I have lived in for so long. Every second I think about the new house, a part of my heart vanishes, because it’s only going to get closer to the day I have to leave.

I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve dealt with changes before, but never such a massive one. This is the biggest change I will ever face and how can I live with it? I don’t know.

All I know is that it’s scaring me so much. I’ve never felt this scared before, because I always had the security of returning to this house. Now that’s going to be gone too.

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Becoming an Adult

The day we become an adult is not the day we turn eighteen, but the day we get our last exam result, and then think “well – now what?” Most of my friends are going to university (some going to extremely high-ranked ones) so they have a little bit of a layout for their life (not much, but at least enough for the next few years) and some even know where they intend to go with their life. They have it all planned out.

But not everybody does. Not everybody knows where their life is going to lead them.

One of the most stressful questions to hear, as someone who suffers from anxiety and depression, is “what are you going to do now?” They mean well but it makes me think about the future and where I’m going and where I’m not going and what’s happening and what’s not happening and — you get the picture. It’s terrifying.

I got good results, results I was happy with, but I happen to be friends with geniuses, which often makes me feel like less of a person too, even though they’re wonderful and I’m happy for them. I just happened to pick up smart friends. I guess I must be the dumb friend, to them, if you think about it. So I’m worried about my results too.

I worry about whether my life has a direction but I don’t want it to, yet I do, all at once. I want to study a degree but I don’t, all at once. I don’t want to be a drifter, I want to be a sailor! But I can’t be. I will never be a sailor, no matter how hard I try to control my ship; it will crash and I will drift on one piece of wood left.

I want to become something, but I don’t.

I’m never going to be what people expect me to be, or rather, what they want me to be. I’m not going to be what I want to be either. Because I will never be strong enough to sail. I just won’t be.

Lia