An Anthem To Myself

Pressure.

That’s what it all comes down to. Pressure to invent some new, amazing thing. To start a movement, to find a cure, to make a difference. Pressure to set an example, to "follow my dreams". Pressure hovers over me, a mosquito in a black room at midnight. The buzz of its flight filling every part of the darkness. I can never pinpoint the sound, but now and then it comes so close that it’s deafening. And yet, no matter how loud or close it gets I can never catch it. The sound is too constant to ignore, yet too distant to silence.

Fear.

I am afraid of failing to influence change in a world I care so much about. I am afraid that in all this preparation for adulthood, I’ll miss a step, and it will all come crashing down. I am afraid of wanting to be good, but not knowing where to start. Fear carves a lethal message of red failure into my skin, it’s nails shaping every letter of every word with a sickening scratch of sound that stays in my head as though it has duct taped itself to the walls of my skull. The message reads in crimson letters, “what if it all goes wrong“.

Desperation.

I am desperate to find motivation to pursue the things I love. I am desperate to find someone who will reach out a hand and say,”I’ll show you where to go“. I’m desperate to find a purpose, a drive, a meaning. Desperation screams in my head, a cacophony of sickening green voices all scrambling to be the loudest, most important, most prioritized issue. And trapped amongst the shouting, crying, pleading to be heard, I can’t even begin to think, let alone come up with a plan to get past any of these obstacles. And with every day, minute, second that passes, I feel my time to act draining away.

And…

I am hopeful.

I am hopeful that my goals and ambitions will chart their own course, and if I just trust myself enough, I will realize that it’s OK to have no idea where or when to take my next step. I do not yet know what makes me who I am, but I hope that once I do, I won’t feel like I need to be anything else. I hope that soon, I’ll stumble across a new path, and although I will be bruised, weary, exhausted, and isolated by my own self doubt, I will still raise my head and follow the path of colors that has lead me to where I am, with the hope that they will continue to lead me in the right direction.