Quarter-Life Crisis

Hey guys,

Sorry that its been a while since I posted last. Things have been hectic and I've been dealing with a lot of stuff: namely my newly initiated Quarter-Life Crisis, hence the name of this blog post. I have no idea if I'm going to be able to talk about this in any sort of articulate fashion, but I'm going to try and hopefully this will all make sense in the end.

Basically, I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I know, what else is new with twenty-year-olds, am I right? But really, I have no clue. None. At all. I know what I want to do, generally speaking, but I have no idea if I'm actually working towards those goals, or if I am just doing what I think I need to do to work towards those goals, and I am slowly becoming more and more miserable.

That sounded far more depressing than I intended it to. Okay, let's try this in a different way.

I love writing. I always have, ever since I was around the age of five. It has been my dream to be a published author for years, and I think I'm working towards that. However, I'm also doing a lot of things that I don't know if I need to be doing: like going to school for far longer than I thought I was going to in order to get a bachelor's degree in English. When I started University, I absolutely loved it, but as my years have gone on, I've realized that I'm not even half way done and I've been here for three years. Around this time next year, I had thought that I would be moving to Scotland with my best friend to get some work in the field that I want to work in while she would be going to school for dramatic arts.

Between going to school for much longer than I thought that I would, and working a job that has absolutely nothing to do with what I want to do with my life (although I do work with great people and have made great friends from working this job, and I do not in fact hate it, I just wish it was something different), I've realized that I feel like I'm not moving forward any more.

I've always been a socially awkward person, and while I did make many amazing friends in my first year of Uni, many of them have moved or have graduated, and I don't get to see them as often. Right now, I am living in the city that my Uni is in over the summer, which means that this is my first summer that I won't be going home for. I've realized over the last couple of weeks that I don't know a lot of people here. The majority of my school friends are gone home, leaving me with my two room mates and one other person that I can hang out with on a regular basis.

My best friend is living half way across the world from me so I never get to see her, the guy that I had some pretty serious feelings for definitely doesn't harbor the same feelings for me (and is also gone for the summer, which sucks because he is another one of my really close friends). Meanwhile, everyone I know seems to be going on dates or getting romantic partners, and I'm sitting here feeling like something must be wrong with me because no one seems to want anything to do with me.

As I type this, both of my room mates are out doing something with their friends and I haven't seen either of them since this morning. Meanwhile, I've been sitting at home watching YouTube videos and trying to write my manuscript because I am too socially awkward to go out with the express meaning of meeting other people. If I happen to meet new people, I am good, but initiating things on my own is incredibly difficult for me, especially when the only people that I really know in the area go out and do things without even attempting to invite me or let me know what is going on. I don't even know what time I should expect them to be home, so if something goes wrong, I'll have no idea.

This is where I point out that I realize I have a decent life. I get to go to University and study the things I want to study. I get to sit at home some days and work on things that I love working on, like writing, but that doesn't mean that I don't go stir crazy. I don't stop to wonder if this is all going to be worth it at some point. I feel like there are so many other things that I could be doing instead of going to Uni and working two or three days a week. There are days where I think that dropping everything and moving to Glasgow or London would be such an amazing adventure and I would have so much fun while doing so, but the fantasies never seem to last for long because before long, the logical side of my brain comes back to tell me that I should finish Uni and get my degree, I should keep working to make enough money to fall back on in case something were to happen, and generally speaking, I can't afford to move half way around the world.

I'm going to Brazil in July with my friend Isa to see her family, and I am legitimately terrified that I won't want to leave, just because I'll be somewhere new with a friend who is extroverted and able to make me speak to strangers and help me make even more amazing friends. I'm scared that it will come time to get on the plane to come back to Canada, and I'll have a complete and total mental breakdown because of how badly I just won't want to come back to this completely average life that I'm living.

Basically, what I'm saying is that I'm not one hundred percent happy with my life at the moment, not one hundred percent happy with what I'm doing. I want to do something that will make me happy, but I don't know what that could possibly be at this point in time. I feel like this whole stream of stress and anxiety is my brain's way of dealing with the fact that I am turning 21 next week, and I am no where near where I thought I would be in life by now. I feel like I'm so far behind in everything that I want to accomplish, and that is dragging me down.

Oh well, this ended up being a much longer and more dower post than I initially intended for it to be, so I'm going to go now. Hopefully I'll feel better about this come Monday, when I get to go home for a while and see some of my childhood/high school friends and my mom and dad. All of them usually find the way to make me feel so much better.

Until next time,
Helen.