…being a disappointment.
…not living up to the dream.
…not trying hard enough.
…not being pretty enough.
…not being good enough.
Fear of not being enough.
My mind is preoccupied with all these useless thoughts.
Some might say this is so typical of a sixteen year old – well maybe it is but that doesn’t make it less important.
I’m tired of just having my mum tell me how good I am, and how gorgeous I am, and how this and how that.
She loves me unconditionally; her judgement doesn’t count.
And lately, I haven’t been close enough to anyone to know what I truly am, or what people truly think of me. But everyday that passes my mind gets slightly more clogged up with all these worries and I begin to wish to fall off the face of the earth; at least then I wouldn’t have to worry, right?
Then I ask myself, do I really want to know if I am good enough, or if I will be successful, or if I won’t be?
Isn’t that just as scary? Or will it ruin the painful fun of this thing we call life?
Who has all the answers, and why do I have so many questions?
Ugh… I wish my brain had an on/off button sometimes.