I haven't written anything in a very long time. Since my last update, I've been put on anti-depressants. They have definitely evened me out, but at the same time, I don't feel much of anything anymore. I'm never really happy or really sad. I don't know if I like it or not. The lack of emotion doesn't make for very interesting writing.
I also withdrew from school for the last semester. I'm okay with it. I'm in the process of re-enrolling for the fall, and if all goes as planned I should still be able to walk at graduation in May.
I also turned 21. It's not as great as everyone else makes it out to be.
I'm really quite content, I guess. I don't know if it's the medication or not, but I've had no real desire to write lately because I think I've got myself all figured out all of the sudden. Not all figured out, obviously, but I'm not burning and itching to get out and to label every single emotion. Maybe it is the medication. Maybe I'm just growing up.
Dayn is truly the love of my life, I've decided. That sounds so cheesy, but I'm literally ready to spend the rest of my life with him. I know I'm young, but I'd easily settle down right now. I don't know what else I want to do with my life. I don't really have any personal ambitions, so I wouldn't be giving anything up--not really.
I've been reading a lot. It makes me want to write again. Unfortunately, I don't want to have to try for my writing to be phenomenal. I just want to be able to sit down and write the next great novel without any effort at all, even though I know it doesn't work like that. I am just overall an unmotivated person, so I'll never try. I think it took so long and I exhausted so much energy in order to just be content with who I am that I don't have anything left to give into pushing myself any further. As long as I'm not constantly on the brink of an anxiety attack, I feel like I've accomplished something.
Maybe I've accomplished a lot more than I give myself credit for, and maybe I should keep pushing myself even further.