Creatively Inadequate

Today I feel creatively inadequate. I have this deep sense of disappointment with myself because I feel like I should be somewhere else, doing anything but what I am doing right now, which is sitting in a room by myself for 8 hours "working". I feel like I should be somebody, anybody, but me. I don't know why. I am happy and healthy. I am in college; I get good grades. I have a boyfriend and lots of wonderful friends. In spite of all of this, I can't help but feel like I have no idea where I am going, what I want to be, where I want to go, what I want to do with myself, what I should do with myself, what I am doing, or who the hell I even am anymore. It is like I have reached a quarter-life crisis.

I just have this overwhelming sense of failure. I think it is because all of my life school and society have taught me to think and act a certain way. They have taught me that by age 18 I should be accepted into a great college, that by age 20 I should have met the man of my dreams, that by age 25 I should be thinking about getting married. I should have a career and a house and a husband and a family. All along the way I should be thanking God for all these wonderful gifts. Too many people in my life have said to me "Things happen for a reason". I used to say that too. Everything that ever went wrong, I used to believe, was because "Things will always work out for the best in the end". I used to have unwaivering faith in these two principles, and in God.

Now, I find myself believing that all I have is the present. This ONE life, this ONE opportunity to do everything that I want to do. I find myself wanting to break away from all of those things that school and society told me over the years. I placed third in my high school class, and the other day I actually told someone that I thought grades and high school were both meaningless. I didn't go to a private college, I went to a second-tier state school. I no longer find myself saying "Everything happens for a reason" and "Things always work out for the best". I don't believe that anymore. I just feel like there are so many choices that I have to make, and each one, while right for myself, seems like it flies in the face of everything I once believed in; everything that was ever taught to me.

I feel like a rebel, but not the kind that anyone aspires to be. I feel like the kind of rebel who isn't actually trying to rebel against anything, but finds herself suddenly opposed to the way things are. I feel like society would look at me and, if they could read my mind, would think "Wow, she is messing up". I feel like they would judge me, and I hate that. I hate how people judge other people.

Now, let me make it clear that I do not care what society thinks of me. I told my Mom that once, that I didn't care what people thought of me, and she cried. She was genuinely upset. I still don't fully understand why. The thing is, I just desperately want to do something, to be someone, to mean something to someone. I want to exist beyond the confines of my body and mind. I want to make a difference. And, here I am: blogging. I feel so grossly inadequate. I want to do something with this life! I don't want to graduate college and get a job and then live to work. What kind of life is that? And yet, as I express those feelings, I feel like people don't understand them.

I feel out of touch with humanity, more than ever before. I find that I can not relate to even my friends sometimes. My boyfriend tries so hard to be exactly what I want and need. Our relationship used to work out so well, everything about it was spectacular. Yet, I find myself tiring of his presence. What is wrong with me? I feel so completely and utterly lost within myself. I wake up in the morning and do the same thing, every day. I want to do things differently, to live spontaneously, but I feel like I don't have that opportunity. I have to work. I have to go to class. I have to study. Then, I cook and clean and go to bed. There is nothing else to do because my day is over. Midnight is upon me and my eyelids grow heavy. Next day, same thing.