The Teenage Life Crisis

I've hit that point in the last few days of feeling depressed. When asked if I could do anything, what I'd do, I didn't answer to save the orangutans in Borneo. I didn't say that I wanted to go on outrageous adventures that may conclude in me being a legend. Nothing close to that. I wanted to sit in a cave, covered in a warm blanket, watching the condensation drip from the ceiling. The next day, as my mom tried to explain a way for me to visit a cave, I realised that would be too successful for me. I settled I didn't want to be productive that day. I didn't even want to read. I basically spent a good part of that day immobile, staring off into space. I was perfectly fine being a worthless lump of meat taking turns between feeling sorry for myself and wishing I could beat someone up. I wasn't certain why I felt this way. I guess it was one of those days.

Today, I couldn't take it. My emotions switched between wanting to pound something and letting a few tears drop. I'd recognized my frustration of not being able to connect with other people.. From my ex admitting he only felt affection for me as a friend (in which I was already aware of and felt the same) to having to fake "love" for my "fiance" in a play, only exaggerated the fact I have little bonding ability. Even having friends, the social anxiety gets to me. Keep in mind, the three friends I have are the only people outside family I bother to put time into. Lets face it, I'm not a social person.

Then, for two, most of my life seemed a given I'd be famous when I grew up. I was going to go on adventures and effect the world forever. I was so sure about my future. I was going to be a zoologist and travel the world. I've yet to get over the loss of my past pets and I hardly dare going in the animal section anymore at the library. As for traveling, I'm a homebody anymore. Not much seems to interest me. I don't feel drive. Underachiever feels good. What do I do?

My mom was patient through my meltdawn and even allowed me to sit down as she finished up dishes. She understood. I explained that even my imagination (which was my life) seemed gone. It helped me escape "reality" when it got boring. It helped even the boring details of life have a purpose and story. It halped me dream my future and imagine ways to get out of sticky situations I may encounter in my adventures. Imagination even helped me understand complex concepts. And now if the phrase began "Imagine that..." or "Imagine if...", I'd probably be lost.

Oh well, hopefully this is just a phase...