Today I spoke with my counselor about college and my prospects. It was a nice little chat, I suppose. But it just made me realize how unclear my prospects really are--if I even have any--in the field of print journalism--let alone journalism in general. And it dug up something I'd long tried not to think about for a while--if I can even take photography into consideration.
And then, I thought about other things.
Hell. I can't write anymore.
Today I realized clearly that I have not been recovering at all. I've been relapsing. I'm fighting an uphill battle, or a losing battle. Call it what you want.
I'm not getting any closer, I'm not getting any better. I think I might be getting worse. But I can change that. I will, I'll have to.
I cannot accept defeat. I might have lost a battle, but I can still win the war. It's tiring, sometimes, to try remaining optimistic. But I still believe in myself. And surely that will take me somewhere. I know where I want to go. It's just a matter of getting there. So long as I know, I can still fight for it.
But the fears never leave me--those what if's. What if I end up as a nobody? What if I don't get to that place? What if in the end I'm just the biggest failure? What if I end up crashing and burning?
But I still have time. It's a fallacy to think that way, I know. It's dangerous to think that way--that I still have time, because I'll just keep on prolonging and procrastinating as I usually do--but now is the time to really take advantage of having time and make the fucking best of it.
That being said--I have a lot to correct. Right now, I'm frankly a disappointment. No denying it. Not only to others--but to myself. I can't undo the past, neither do I have much desire to do so. What's done is done. I'm going to strike out and go forward, and stick to my words. I'll be better, stronger.
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