---
It's a strange thing - change. I'm sure I've heard that statement a dozen a dime times (mentally at least). Nevertheless - it's a component within life we have to adapt to. Change terrifies me; it makes my heart race with anxiety. Change, and the future, seems to loom overhead like an omnipresent guillotine. And by God, I'm scared. I don't want to commit to a career, to a university, nor to a choice. I want to live in the sunshine of youth (albeit the brightness is indefinitely variable). I guess that makes me a coward.
Time is slipping between my fingers. I wish I could capture the flyaway grains of sand and place them back into the leaking hourglass. Sometimes I ponder over terminal diseases; I briefly entertain the thought that I have one. In the sickest sense, it gives me relief. I won't live up to achieving my fears, my failures. To cut to the truth, I don't want to fail. Damn it, I don't want to come within an inch of failure. Hence, the prospect of death seems frighteningly relieving.
But then I come to my senses.
Putting death into perspective - I couldn't part with life - forever living in the minds of people as someone who quit. The girl who couldn't take it, the girl with the shiny flask. Forever anxious, always quiet. The prospective failure of a meek geek. Forgotten within a week. No. I need to try. I must strive. The question that constantly reaches my mind is; what for? What am I striving towards?
And bingo! There is the problem. What do I want?
...
What do I want?
Several things come up. Whilst some are trivial, others are more or less impossible. Dauntingly so. I read about an exercise to achieve almost a mental purge - to figure out what you want. So, I'm going to type what comes firstly into my head. One minute. Perhaps two.
What do I, Peta, in all of my pseudonymous truth, want?
I want to be happy. I want a relationship, with someone who loves me, for who I am. With a man that I can be myself with, someone who doesn't care about my imperfections. Someone who is satisfied by my broken mind and my fragmented esteem; someone who disregards vanity and appearances. Someone I wouldn't stutter or stammer at, somebody I can be at ease with.
Oh, sigh.
Sometimes I wonder whether the issue is with me, rather than with the world; with people who are picky.
MAY
It's strange how you long for something even more when it's being threatened to be wrenched away from you, forever. I never realised how much I truly want to become a doctor. After time, I have come to realise that economics is not my passion. In fact, economics - my former academic flame - has actually become somewhat monotonous, to my surprise. It is biology that has captured my interest, with the various components and biological processes and details and intricacies. It's actually fantastic.
What weirds me out next is the following. How something you adored goes to something you tolerate; how something you tolerated goes to something you adore. It's odd how we change with time.
May is both a month of beauty and horror, I think for obvious reasons. The proximity of exams is a constant nightmare to my frantic mind. There is not a second that I do not curse myself for being so damn tardy. But on the positive side, God has given me the strength to persevere - I believe that's what counts ultimately. Thus, I thank God, for giving me hope, and I thank God for giving me family. Despite their...exuberance, they're not that bad after all. I just pray that I'll get through the next month without any stupid mistakes, and by working to the max. I don't want to be the one shattering my own dreams. Being a doctor seems so real now. I just have to work for it. And I pray, and I promise that I will not give up. I will keep on. There is nothing else I can do. I cannot afford to get B's - I must achieve a minimum of three A's, or else I've failed by my own standards. Economics, if I work, should fulfill this - as should biology and maths, if I work and get everything done in due course. But chemistry is a constant worry. I guess.
Learn to love right? That's how I rolled at GCSE - learning to love.
d --> a* hmm. I'd say learning to love wouldn't be so bad after all.
So, how do I feel? I'm not quite sure. Every year I wonder whether I'll exceed my expectations. I always do, but that doesn't negate the subsisting and prevalent fear that clings to my chest. It's a physical feeling this fear - like nausea. Pumping through my veins, circulating through my body.
- - -
MAY
It's hard.
On the surface, things can be easily dealt with. But underneath, it's difficult. Sometimes I feel my anger soar above; indignantly.
- - -
