I've been so depressed these past couple of months. Since losing my job, things have just begun to go further and further downhill. Health problems, family drama, etc. I hate that I'm constantly reminded of things I have lost. I hate that I wish I could go back in time because it's such a childish thing to wish for. I feel like I'm going in reverse instead of moving forward, and I've never been more scared in my life.

Four writings were added today. More to come.

They say everyone has a purpose in life. Every single day, I ask myself the same question: what exactly is mine? I know I'm too young to be contemplating what I should do with the rest of my life, but I'm one of those people that more often then not, can be found staring off into space thinking just that. I can't help it. Recently I read a livejournal entry of someone I used to go to school with, and it turned out our thoughts on this very subject were identical. Eerily so. And the funny thing was, she's only 19! I was not thinking these things at 19 but I suppose teens nowadays are more or less forced to plan ahead.

What she wrote stuck with me and had me thinking about it for hours.

In summation, she wanted to be known for something, which I think is a very universal desire. We all want to leave a lasting impression, feel as though all the strive was worth it in the end. Sometimes I think to myself, maybe I'm just one of those people whom exists just to exist. I'm here because my parents brought me into the world, and that's that. I'm their daughter -- that's my only purpose. I know that it can't be, but it seems like everyone else around me has found their calling, and I'm just floating out into the atmosphere, feebly trying to grab onto something tangible.

I more than understand that no one is defined solely by their career choice, but I believe that I've brainwashed myself into thinking that it does define who I am because time is escaping me. Time that I feel I've wasted on a job that I loathe with every single bone in my body. It's almost like I want to be miserable, I want to continue beating myself to a metaphorical pulp over it. Of course I don't. I'd like to have a job that I enjoy going to, co-workers that I can open up to and don't feel so alien in their presence.

I've put up this wall, and I can't for the life of me, even begin to start tearing it down. I want a job without barriers, though. But the thing is, I don't feel like I'm me when I'm there, and thus I can't be myself. This is how I know it isn't my calling. In all the years I've been alive, I still haven't been introduced to myself. I don't know who I am, in various respects. I'd like to finally be able to shake hands with myself, and absorb who I am, down to my very soul. I'd like to be able to embrace everything that makes me this person, no matter what is different about me.

I feel it's the only way I'll ever discover my true purpose. I don't know when that day will come though. Guess I'm just going to have to wait.