i feel like i spend a disproportionate amount of time driving around in my car and crying these days

i just don't really know what else to do i guess; i don't know how to get my life in order because that would require me having a plan for my life. i don't because as soon as life gets hard, i give up. as soon as something seems like it might be just a little too difficult, i just drop it all together.

i have ideas, maybe. but i don't know what i really want, do i? i want to live a million miles away and i never want to leave. i don't want to get married, i don't want to die alone. i don't want to stop writing but i feel like i'm losing something.

i don't take risks anymore. maybe i never did, maybe i just did things with no real failsafe in place because i didn't need one, they were never actually dangerous.

i don't stretch myself and i'm still growing and i'm getting cramped but i don't know if this is a cocoon i can break out of. maybe i'll just die here.

i don't understand where motivation comes from for other people some days; i don't understand how i'm supposed to go to school for four years for something that i supposedly love (if it's not beaten out of me by the end) only to not get a job and die in debt and alone.

that's where i feel like i'm headed and i don't know how to get off this track anymore. i'm afraid to talk to people and i wasn't for so long. what am i so afraid of? what is there to fear? everything, apparently; jesus what if someone talks to me? how do i miss every cue? how do i crack stupid jokes that aren't actually that funny? And, jesus, what if they want me to leave the house or spend time with them?

i don't know.

i don't know how i got here and i don't know how to get out. i'm going to spin on this wheel forever. i can't stand up for myself, and so who else will stand up for me? what's the point when all i'm going to do is shed it like a bad skin, shrug off the hand on my shoulder like it hurts to be touched? i can't ask for support because i don't even know what i need. i need a life but nobody's going to hand it to me and i don't know how to reach for it by myself.

i like to dye my hair and call that a risk, pretend that makes me interesting and funny and cool and it doesn't, it never has, it makes me an attention seeker and nobody even gives it to me.

i don't know

the only person who can pull you up out of the mire, in the end, is yourself. maybe i just need to rest a little bit