11:59 PM, 26 July 2016, PH
Someone asked me if I had plans today. I said yes, we’re eating as a family at home. The second I said that I realized that wasn’t probably the expected answer. I think my answer just equated to a “No. I’m just staying at home.” But see the thing is, it was a plan- a good one considering I have no idea when I’m spending another birthday right here and with my family. To be honest, it’s more than enough. To be more honest, I really didn’t want to do anything today.
Recently I’ve become more and more anxious, it became a problem. I know for a fact it’s not healthy. It’s scary and it physically hurts actually. A lot of times I tried telling people but nobody will really understand unless they want to. Even if they did though, I wouldn’t want to worry them. It’s unnecessary burden I didn’t want a friend to have.
Lately all I’ve been doing is planning and getting my stuff together so it will all be easier to put in a luggage. I’m a month in on it and it’s not easy. I really can pack everything I need in an hour tops. I still have a few months before I actually need to but man, 23 years in a luggage is impossible. Talk about (literal) emotional baggage. Each time I think about wanting to leave, I see the people I wanna stay for. I see them in my first home and wherever they may be, working or studying, I’ll always remember them here in this city. I think about how comfortable life is here. When you go out, for sure you’d bump into a familiar face. Everything here is familiar. Even if you get lost, you never really are because you’d figure out soon enough. When you need someone’s help or when you want something done, you just reach out to a friend or a friend of a friend and there you go. Everyone knows everyone to some degree. Almost everyone knows where to get stuff or where to get the new ones. This city isn’t safe though but what place is really? I think the older you become, the smaller the city gets. It’s comfortable here. Too comfortable. And that’s why I want to leave.
I meant to write this as a reminder for me on my 24th wherever I may be then. I hope when I read this next year, things will have changed for the better but the people I have (and keep) around me right now haven’t. I bet 24 year-old me would just think how I could’ve written this better.Â
Cheers to a lot of major changes this year and may I have the courage to take on them as graciously as I possibly can.Â
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