I'll tell you what I think it is, but only if you promise not to judge me for it. Yeah right, we're all just a little bit judgemental in our own ways. But that's another entry, another rant, another confession for a time of dark secrets and late night phone calls. No but for real, I think what's happened is the last year or so, maybe less... I'm not even sure, I think it has pushed my apathy up to an all time high. I've become the girl who doesn't sleep, alternated occasionally with the girl who's completely nocturnal. If I do sleep, it's generally only after the sun has already risen. It doesn't really matter what I do to kill the time in between that I should wisely use for sleeping. Something about the days is just more unappealing to me now, and even I can't believe the hours that I keep. It's not intentional, it's just what I do. And other things like work and life just fit in wherever.

Talking to me has become more of a challenge for the people that I know. The more I live inside my head the less I live in the real world, I suppose. I've taken to just ignoring about 40% of comments and questions directed at me. If neccessary, a shrug or a mumble will suffice. I can generally tell which comments are made in an actual attempt to have a conversation and which ones are just trying to irritate me though or provoke me into talking. And oh, I could really rant about that last part for a while...but I won't.

The thing you have to understand is, I sincerely believe that I bring these things upon myself. If I had chosen this path instead of that one 8 years ago, if I had said this when I ended up saying that, if I had circled B instead of C on that standardized test that time... you know what I mean? I'm going overboard to make a point of course. Every day seems too late. But once it's passed, it seems like it wouldn't have been if I had just known what to do. I know, I'm rambling, but this is cheaper than a shrink so deal with it.

Part of my anxiety is stemming from the fact that in two months I will turn 26. And I am really, really afraid that by the time I get there... things will be exactly the same as they are now. That's just not something I can face at the moment, weird as it sounds. Another birthday with nothing to show for myself. I'd rather just stay 25 for another year or two until I figure things out.

I am wasting time, in every sense of the word. At night when I stay up, in the mornings when I sleep, every day that I don't accomplish something just, tears at me, leaving tiny scars that only I can see. It's painful in the strangest way, a way that I can't even explain. These are the things that keep me up at night even  if I do venture to bed at a semi-reasonable hour. Truth be told, I'm afraid to say any of it to anyone, because then everything I keep so well hidden will come spilling out in one moment, and I won't be able to take it back. I won't be able to smile warmly and say, "Of course I'm fine, why do you ask?" followed by a quick joke to lighten the mood.

 Man..I am so f-ed up sometimes.