It started while I was in the shower. It felt like a baseball bat to the head. I hunched over and couldn't force myself to stand back up. The muscles in my face contorted and my vision blurred. Tears started streaming. I was crying. For the first time since I don't know when. I was crying and I couldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried.
Lately, I've been trying to keep my head up. Been trying to stay positive and focused toward a hopeful future in one of the most popular cities in the world. But it hasn't been easy. And after yesterday, it's damn near impossible. Everyone keeps trying to tell me to keep my chin up. Just keep at it. God has a plan for you. Fuck am I tired of hearing about God's plan.
Unlike most things, rejection does not get easier with time. In fact, the more it happens, the more you start to believe in the negative hype. The majority of my 26 years have been filled with rejection, so right now I'm thinking pretty negatively. Thing is, I can't tell if this is just a bad time, or if I'm realizing that I don't belong here.
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe i'm just confused, and doubting myself right now. But I can't help wondering what if. I've written this entry over the course of 4 days just incase my mindset changed, but it hasn't. I still don't know that I should be here. I truly am over this freelance bullshit, especially since it seems like everyone just wants to see me as PA. Things were simpler back in St. Louis. Not better, but simpler. Things made more sense to me. I fit in, though I didn't necessarily want to. Out here it seems that everyone can't get enough of telling me I don't belong. I'm lonelier here than I ever was back home. I here from "friends" less and less every day. I eat and drink myself poor. I haven't been able to write, no matter how long I stare the screen. Not a single female in this time zone has taken a second glance at me. I'm wasting away here.
No one wants to be considered a quitter, especially in matters of the heart. I came here to follow my dreams. To do what I love. Or at least to try. And I'm trying. Have I done all that I could. No. But I already feel beaten. People say that life isn't a race. But the longer I go working in reality and not in scripted, the less likely it is that I ever will. And don't want to go working in reality. I can't stress that enough. I honestly can't.
But if I did move back, what would I do? Where would I work? What career could I find that would give me enough money and benefits to live and not make me want to blow my brains out at the end of the day? If I ever figure that out, I'll take that as my sign to close the book on this chapter of my life. If I ever figure it out....
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