This is public because I actually believe that this little post will provide some kind of solace to the masses. At least those masses in their post-collegiate early 20s.
See, the last few weeks I've been feeling like a massive failure. I'm not in grad school, I haven't been published, I like my job but I don't love it, I'm worried about my creativity being drained away, I'm poor, I'm a big ball of confusion, worry, spazing, and generally tortured by my own hand. Sometimes my inner monologue isn't pretty.
But slowly, ever so slowly (after a minor meltdown), I started coming in contact with friends I had recently lost touch with and found out about their lives. And the generally consensus?
None of us know what the hell we're doing.
We're all struggling, we're all worried, we're definitely all poor, and we're constantly fighting our inner demons to get to the next best thing.
Sometimes we fake our happiness for everyone around us because we believe our friend next to us has it so much better. They've really got their shit together.
But they don't.
And that is comforting.
Cuz...we're all going through this...