Almost all of my depressive/angsty moods begins with the question “What is my purpose in life? What am I doing?”
Why is it that I need a concrete so called purpose in life for me to properly function? I feel so lost without one. And questioning one’s existence never ends well…
During college, it’s so much easier. I’m there to get a degree. Because I need one. I have my planner full of obligations. I try not to think too much about it, in fear of cycling back through my depression.
This is where my “projects” roll in. I can’t even tell you how many projects I’ve created to try and fill this hole inside of me. YouTube channels, blogs, journals and countless video ideas. All with the prime focus of making a difference in people’s lives. That’s all I want out of life. And the hardest part for me might have to be accepting that it’ll never happen on a big scale.
Now, these projects… imagining them always gives me terrific pleasure. I become so engulfed in their ideas, imagining the future with all of its glory, that as soon as an obstacle appears…poof. Idea: out of commision. Because statistics show I always fail at actually completing these projects. (Maybe except for my YouTube channel.. it’s almost been a year, but I sill don’t feel proud of it.)
I demand a meaningful life. Where I can make a difference and matter. Being important to a handful of people just isn’t good enough for me anymore.
I just want to live my life on a smaller scale. Without social media. Without the awareness of celebrities. But I just can’t. My life will never be like that. My definition of success by perception of Hollywood cannot be forgotten.
I’m in a constant war with myself on how I want to live my life and who I am. With every one of my projects, I CAN ALWAYS SEE IT HAPPENING AND BECOMING SUCCESSFUL. But then something always happens. I doubt myself. I give up. And again repeats the cycle.
“She believed she could, so she did.” Well. That isn’t always true, is it?…