Growing up is a bitch. I can’t decide which is worse: my uncertain future or my heightened understanding of world events. Not only do I not know where I am going, but Jesus Christ, this place is scary.
I am inundated with bad news that feels impossible to escape. News from The Kardashians to mass shootings, both of which I hear about too frequently. We live in a world where even when my door is shut, someone is knocking feverishly, begging for my attention.
While weeding through the hordes of attention seeking news anchors, Twitter trolls and Facebook political analysts, I am trying to figure myself out. I am standing on my soapbox, trying to tell my story but everyone around me is screaming.
Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful. I am lucky. I can pay my bills, there is a roof over my head, and I have never gone hungry. I have a group of friends I feel like I have waited a lifetime for and a family I would give my life for. I date a handsome bearded babe and together we have a beauuuuutiful dog (39 months) and cat (132 months). But even with all the flowers, sometimes I can’t find my way out of the weeds.