I'm going to bed tonight,
thinking about what changes I want to make in my life. Do I really like my major? Will switching to the forensics side actually make it better? How do my professors feel about me? How can I explain to them that last semester wasn't me, and that I can do so much better? How can I prove to not only my mom, but to the rest of my family that I am not the black sheep. That I can become somebody, even with an Anthropology major under my belt. But one thing is for sure, I'm going to bed with some weight lifted off my shoulders. I no longer have to worry about how my mother is going to take the news of me failing two classes. I no longer have to worry about how she will react, what she is going to say to me, and what she is going to make me do. Because that all has happened today. I know how she feels, I was there to see the reaction on her face when I told her, and I did what she asked me to do. Even though I saw the disappointment I caused her on her face today, she reassured me that she still loves me. She just expects a lot from me. And I expect a lot from myself. But because of all the depression and anxiety I have been feeling, I push things too far when it comes to how I feel. Yes, I can see that. But it's so much harder to act on it. I am the best at giving out advice, mostly because it doesn't involve me personally. But when my life is throw into the mix, no matter how bad this may sound, I take more caution towards it. Which isn't always the best thing. Maybe one day I will be able to say "Fuck it, I'm going to this. Fuck the consequences." But right now, I will go hide in my bedroom, lay down, and stare up at my ceiling thinking about my future and whether or not I'm making the best decisions for me.
