complacent

I am complacent in my self-loathing.
I spend time on stupid things like this and ignore what's really important.
I worry almost constantly about other people but never worry about my relationship with God.
I resist the things I need to do but indulge in the frivilous.
I tell myself to be healthy, I even exercise on occasion, but then I go back inside and eat ice cream... and then I hate myself for it.
I tell myself I am happy where I am but the truth is I am never content.
The present tense is killing me.

The golden days are over.
There is no more time to flit around without a care.
I miss the days of school where I could goof off with friends and still make 'A's, go to the theatre in the afternoon and rehearse or perform or dance or sing with wonderful friends, I could meet people I admired and had every hope that we would be friends forever, I could spend an entire weekend writing and drawing and listening to music, I only got on the computer twice a week to check email and manipulate photos, I had opportunities to learn and didn't have to worry that it would take away from my study time, I grew every day (on the inside) and even if I had a bad day at school or got into an argument with my parents, there would always be someone at the theatre to cheer me up.
Sure I had my moments of grief, periods of pain and trials with low self esteem.

But it always ended quickly.
Because people were there.
People who I knew I could always depend on... But I made mistakes.
The ones I depended on most are the ones who ultimately let me down the most.
And the ones I underestimated are the ones who have gone on to prove that they have really been there for me all along.
So.. where does that leave me?

Well. Here I am.
Everything is under my control now. I can't depend on anyone else to do things for me, but it also seems like I have no control at all. No power to change my own life.
And the people, some of them of course- not all, who I once reffered to as my best friends are seemingly invisible. I have to worry constantly about doing well in school so that I can get into an NYC grad school so that I don't end up living in a cardboard box in Hope Mills.
My resistance to change and denial to grow up is showing itself more and more now that growing has to happen in order for survival.
I try and try every day to make myself satisfied... I think of different ways to occupy myself, just another distraction from the me I don't want to face.

I keep telling myself that I will scrape out of this rut tomorrow.
And tomorrow never comes.

I'm sure it will end eventually.. but when? How?

When I was younger, I knew exactly who I was. I had hope. The world was my oyster.

But here I am smashed in the clostrophobic closet of reality, and let me tell you, it's almost impossible to escape.