Sometimes I feel as though I have not aged, not since 2000 when I officially became an adult. I made the transition from confident, popular teenager to not only adult but mentally ill adult all in one smooth easy step. I didn’t even notice. I was looking forward to the challenge, independence and autonomy that adulthood promised. I had been looking forward to it since I was 12; so desperate was I to escape childhood. I hit 18 and my world caved in – or so I thought. I reached 21, and my world was on the verge on ending. 2003 was the worst year of my life (August, to be specific), and despite a major uphill turn after that which lasted awhile, it all came crashing down in 2006. Since then, it has been very much a claw-back-up, slide-back-down sort of deal. I went to Europe earlier this year thinking I’d lose my demons if I fucked off to the other side of the world. Foolish in retrospect, I suppose. Now they’re back with a vengeance. Sometimes I forget they’re not tangible things, and stress and anxiety push me back into a dissociative state which I find to be more normal than I can remember actual normal life being. On a good day I can make light of all this and rationalise it all out, play it all down; laugh at how amusing my mentally ill self can be. But the times where the immature, emotionally-inadequate person who can’t deal with adult life rears her adolescent head, comparing herself with all her peers who have succeeded where she has failed; good days become bad in a second, and these times are increasingly frequent. What do I do to change; to snap out of it, so to speak? I don’t want to be this emotionally-unstable child-creature forever, achieving nothing and being forever broke. What a waste of a decade.
x Kitten of Doom
Kitten of Doom 