Angry and reckless

I miss being a teenager sometimes. I burned my diaries from that time (my mum found them in the attic last year and I couldn’t sleep until I had them back in my possession) but I’ve kept a few scrapbooks and looking through them reminded me of the kind of person I used to be. Even though I was a selfish little drama queen who made at least three bad decisions a day, the person that comes through in those pages has so much more energy and drive and general IDGAF attitude. I didn’t care about what people thought, I did things for myself. I had huge dreams and no clue how to accomplish them but that didn’t make me believe in the fact I was going to get there any less. I wasn’t afraid to try new things for fear of not being very good at them. I believed strongly in ideals and rushing out and doing things without overanalysing the fuck out of them in order to find a reason not to. I don’t really know how to get that back. Well, I do; I need to go out and start doing things again but it’s so hard to get out of the mindset of finding excuses to stay at home with the laptop and being crippled by self-doubt the whole way through. It’s hard to be at the mercy of your brain which can decide to go into a slump where getting out of bed in the morning is a purely mechanical action at any time. It’s hard knowing that the euphoric feeling of ‘no one can stop me’ can go at any moment. And it’s hard doing anything when at the back of my mind there’s a little voice always going, “What’s the point? It’s not like any of this is going to matter in five years time”.

I mean, it might. Anything could happen. But my subconscious has placed a bulletproof glass ceiling between myself and doing something with my life, and I don’t seem to have the energy to try and smash through it. I need a metaphorical tank. Where does one get a metaphorical tank?

Anyway, egoistical whine over.

EDIT: Found a gif on Tumblr that describes it perfectly


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