ritu aka ritopolis

I've never been terribly interested in journaling because I'm lazy and really hate writing on paper unlike every author to ever exist which makes me anxious and then I think about how authors probably don't think about that kind of stuff because they're too busy living and then that makes me more anxious. Also with journaling I made this obligation to myself to update the entries every day and every time I forgot I got super upset that I had missed a day so I'd write two entries and lie about when I wrote them and then I realized no one but me was reading this anyway and then I'd realize I was feeling super anxious. And now, even as I write this, I think about how stupid and how pointless and UNINTERESTING it all is. But back to the point.
I've always wanted to be interested in journaling, so now, as I find more and more ways to procrastinate finishing my novel, I have naively decided to start a blog. Can one self-identify as naive? Now I'm anxious again.
Let me start with what I wanted to start with, Ritu's question:
is this how we are supposed to feel, like a constant yo-yo of emotions based on current occurrences? Or is it supposed to be a constant state of "happiness"/"sadness"/"anger"? Idk if I'm the only one here but my emotions seem so latched onto what's going on at the moment and it's strange to feel such a big spectrum of emotion because of such a big spectrum of events going on right now?
I think Ritu asks a good question. Growing up is scary and it's weird because I think we all kind of go through life thinking it's just gonna happen one day like suddenly we'll know all the answers and the proper way to make money and live well. I think it's harder when your parents are so successful; You grow up hoping to be them rather than to be better or different.
I had always hoped that one day I would have the answers. I'd hoped that one day it would all make sense and I'd stop feeling so anxious and I would just know how everything worked and what my place in the world was.
And suddenly I was 19 years old realizing I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing and where I was supposed to be going and the panic attacks didn't stop and the fear and wondering didn't stop and I was anxious and it didn't stop.
That was when I realized it'd all never really started. I was 19 years old but I was nothing close to being an adult.
So I don't know Ritu. I spent most of my summer in psychiatrist's offices and working through medications and trying to convince myself that I could make it as a writer and that I didn't need to simultaneously.
I'm not a range of emotions all the time I'm mostly sad and mostly scared. Everyone around me is doing things like working at their favorite news stations or magazines or publishing offices and I'm afraid that by the time I get over this fear that I won't amount to anything it will be too late to amount to anything.
I think my answer is that none of us really know what we're doing.
I think we're all emotional.
I think we're all overwhelmed with the daunting future and the prospect of falling in love or never finding love and with all the trouble in the nation and unemployment we're afraid that maybe we're too late and we were born in the wrong generation.
Is this how we're supposed to feel? Maybe not.
But I think it's better than feeling nothing.
So maybe it's a yo-yo and maybe it's a constant state of happiness/sadness/anger and maybe our emotions are so terribly latched onto "the moment" that we feel we're spiraling but at least we're living in the moment and at least we have moments that we feel warrant happiness.
More than anything I think we all want to understand and the hardest thing to accept is that we can't possibly and that we never will and that everyone we thought did and all the "grown-ups" we looked up to aren't grown up at all and we never grow up.
The scariest thing is just accepting that we have to be able to live and not worry about what's coming next and I think it's easier to focus on the little things especially when it's impossible to grasp the big ones.
Why on earth did I write all that?
Because I'm procrastinating on my novel and ignoring Torrence and wishing that I could just be alone for once and trying to distract myself from all the things that make me want to burst into tears and curl into a ball because I know tomorrow's a new day and I want to be ready for the spectrum of emotion.
But for my "this moment" or whatever, I'm going to curl into a ball on my bed and hope no one notices I haven't taken my medicine in 3 days.