Sometimes I get this feeling that I’m not trying enough things, or that I’m doing one thing and missing out on something else, and sometimes I just want to curl into a ball on my bed under the blanket because the prospects of the future is super bleak and scary. At the same time, I look at some of the people my age already making something out of themselves, some already succeeding, and I can’t help but wonder if I would ever be that person, or will I spend the rest of my life working on a job that I hate while putting my passion on hold. It’s a very scary thought.
It’s funny because I’m currently writing a short story about a girl who thinks she has it all figured out but doesn’t, for my dissertation. I thought she could be anyone at all but myself. I don’t have life figured out, but I do know what I’m passionate about. I was thinking about my friends or people I know or people I’ve read about when I was writing that story, but now that I’ve reached the editing process, I could see more of myself in her (it’s a super weird epiphany). Me in the past would’ve said writing is what I want to do and turn into a career, but me right now after having experienced different kinds of writing, I realise what I really want to do is to create stories.
I directed a script I wrote for my playwriting class last February, and I remember having fun and enjoying working with the actors and being in awe when I see my play come to life. It got me thinking then that I could possibly venture into different forms of storytelling; it doesn’t have to be just writing. It all seems exciting, but it also complicates things in terms of what I want to do. In my head, it feels like I want to do a million things at once, and then the question of how, and the question of if I’d be able to make a living out of it would loom and meddle with everything, and then I’d feel weighted down, and then I’d go back to wanting to just curl in my bed.
No one told me adulting could be this hard.
On the side note, I’ve noticed even at the super-dead state that my blog is in, there are still a number of you reading my posts. Thank you for coming back and caring enough about what I have to say. It really matters to me. And I apologise that I’m not able to write often. Honestly, I don’t want this blog to be another thing on my list that I feel like I have to do or be good at. I’d like to leave it as something personal, and with that comes a scarcity of posts, because I don’t plan to write any of these. I just write when I feel like it. I hope you understand.
But if you’re interested, I do update my writing Instagram account more often: @suzannewritesstories.
Thank you for reading 🙂
Featured image is credited to Riccardo Casarico