I'm Lost

In 2007, I wrote over 200 entries in my blog. I doubt most entries were profound or anything worth reading, but I remember writing whatever was on my mind because I found it therapeutic. I was going through a major identity crisis, and I remember waking up feeling afraid and depressed everyday. I somehow slowly drifted away from writing my thoughts out. I do not know what the catalyst was that created that change, but a shift happened. I feel like I've been carrying around a heaviness lately. I don't think it's one element that is creating this feeling, but rather a collection of stressors. I've been cramming for the GRE exam and preparing my application for Humphrey School of Public Affairs. Both those items probably would make any able and normal person feel at least a little anxiety. On top of that, I feel as though my discomfort is compounded as I still try to compartmentalize the concept of death. It's been over a month since Mitchell died and his funeral. However, I still catch myself falling into these stupors where I am swimming on my own thoughts. I've had trouble falling asleep a couple of nights this week. I'm low on energy, although the lack of sleep might have something to do with that. On Sunday, I almost texted Mitch to ask him if he wanted to watch the Minnesota Vikings game together. The nihilist in me tells me to let go of it. The teenager in me wants to scream and cry. The adult in me whispers to be strong and patient. Reality tells me I'm really confused. I've never dealt with uncertainty well, although I've been surrounded by it most of my life. Maybe writing will help. It's worth a shot. Just ramble on this vast digital canvas.