The other day I found a gray hair when I was brushing it. This is the second gray hair I’ve found. I’m in my early 20’s, too early, I think, to have have gray hair. There are a million things in this life I have never done. I’ve never kissed anyone. I’ve never fallen in love. I’ve never had a job. I’ve never made a really good friend. I’ve never found something I was passionate about.

But just because I haven’t done it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to. I’ve gotten close to some of those things before. I used to think I’ve been in love, now I’m not so sure. There are many entries where I’ve referenced someone who broke my heart. Just in the last one I talked of the pain it caused me to see them fall for someone else. But it’s some time later and I’m not sure what’s changed but it’s not the same. Even when I look I can’t find the hurt that used to be there. I’m happy for them. Well that’s not true, but not because I have negative feelings. It’s more like I’m fine with it. That’s how I’ve been feeling about most things. They’re just fine.

I think the new medication is working but is also making all my feelings dull. I feel like it rounded all the edges off these jagged emotions that I couldn’t hold. And that’s just fine. But just fine can feel boring.

I want so much from this life. Today I had my very first job interview. On the drive there I cried my eyes out, although in between crying spells I was in a fit of laughter. I could see that my tears were objectively silly but somehow couldn’t make them stop. And so like a madwoman I cried and cackled in turns. I was terrified of what might face me when I walked in that office. I’m not sure what I was so afraid of but I was. Of change? Of being judged? Of being around strangers in a place I don’t understand perhaps.

But that fear of the unknown is the very reason I sat in front of the mirror and stared at the slivery glint of my hair in contrast to the rest of it and realized I’d done nothing to earn it. If I were to die right now, my life would’ve meant nothing. And perhaps that’s pessimistic. We all touch the lives of others, even if only in small ways. I’m not saying I’ve never done anything that matters. I’ve just never done anything that matters to me.

I have to go back for a second round of interviews and I’m not sure what they could possibly ask that they haven’t already. I hope that I don’t lose what I’ve tried my best to gain. I hope I’m strong enough to continue trying new things despite the fact that I’ve never been able to before.

But now that I’ve started writing I think there are some things I need to admit to myself that I hadn’t admitted before. I’m finally beginning to understand that the only way to get rid of a feeling is to go through it. So here I go.

I’m scared of the future. I’m scared I won’t be good enough to make a life for myself. I miss my friend, the one I made on here. The one who talked almost as much as me and who was more interesting than anyone I know in real life. I feel guilty for not talking to them enough. I often wonder if they’re alright. I miss my other friends too, but maybe not as much as I’m supposed to.

I don’t want to die before I get to live. I’m grateful for the wonderful life I’ve gotten to live till now, I want to remember that. I have so much to be thankful for. So many people too. But I think I need a little more, from myself that is, something to be proud of. Something to enjoy. Something to remember. Someone too.

But I think I’m doing better, and I know I’m trying. Now all I have to do is not give up.