It really has been ages since I last wrote, I think the death of whiny, personal blogs like mine has something to do with it.
I have 3 more months before marking 2 years in my first job, doing so-called marketing in the sports media industry. I ended my relationship less than 4 months before making it to the 3-year distance. It is just 2 months to the beginning of my 24th year on earth.
I am beaten, tired and spent beyond any limit that I ever imagined, so mentally exhausted at maintaining that precarious balance between reaching all my desires in life and the current state I am in right now, despite realising for ages that these two paths will never meet, and yet I am still trying, and society implores you to bear hope of a better existence.
I don’t remember being this way just a few years ago, at the prime of my youth, where I never counted time because life was always moving so enjoyably fast and I revelled living for all its excitement.
I had so many goals and dreams that are now six feet under. And yet it seems so much better to just remain this way, and keep surviving, than to pull myself out of this funk. I just don’t know how long I can remain lost before I pull the plug on myself, out of constant frustration. I don’t know how I can get help, but then maybe I don’t want it.
