losing yourself

i am a bad main character

What am I even doing with my life? I'm more than happy to sit idly by, doodling and typing and reading and ignoring the outside world.

I thought about it today, it's just escapism. I thought about the concept of being the main character, since really we are the main characters in our lives.

I'm one hell of a lame main character. Sure, my inner world is rich and vibrant and oh so exciting-thrilling, engaging.

But me? Who I am?

Sometimes I don't know. I'm not empty, I know I'm not.

But I feel like I'm just this girl who spends all her time focused on lives that don't actually exist, while her own flies past. Like a hurricane of broken pieces I'll never recognize because I always have my head down to avoid the blows.

Am I running away from reality? I know when it started, I was probably 8 or 10 years old. I fell in love with creating worlds and characters of my own. There were people in my head, places and amazing things to show.

As I've grown older, as you may know, some things got darker. I can't help that I have this dark side of me. I don't mean to glorify evil. I'm trying to do the opposite, show how there is always light in the darkness.

I am getting that feeling again, like I'm running on a treadmill but I never get anywhere because someone keeps turning up the speed and I have to run faster or else collapse.

I feel like a failure and a disappointment to my family because I'm such a capable person and yet I feel I don't do anything.

Are my own expectations too high? They always tell me how proud they are of me. Why is that not enough? Why can't I ever be proud of myself?

Because I know I can be better. Because I know I still have so much to work on. Heck, it's because I'm a stupid perfectionist with high ideals and wild dreams.

But I also severely lack in the motivational department.

Part of me suspects my home state and its almost eternal wintry weather. I swear, it's rare I get to be home on a NICE day where I can actually go OUT and enjoy some freaking SUNSHINE.

Maybe I should move to Florida since Minnesota sucks. Or perhaps Tennessee. They have art community there, right? Maybe I would thrive.

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with no way out and I keep burrowing as dirt gets shoveled on top me. Like I'm buried alive, but it's comfortable in its own way so I don't really care.

Why blaze new trails when you hit a dead end, when it's so much easier to just hang out at the stop or turn back to whence you came?

Why bother?

In the end, who even cares?

I'm actually scaring myself with these thoughts right now. They cannot and should not be my own.

Get out of my head.

Get ME out of my head.