I am seriously surprised I don’t
suffer from anxiety attacks. Not that I wish I did because I am fully aware of
the results they can have on a person.
It’s because of the amount of things I stress, get anxious, and worry
about that are out of my control, and yet I’m able to carry out my day like a
normal human being. I mean kudos to me but sometimes I just want to run away,
and explode.
It’s weird though, because when it comes to a lot of other things or people that don’t specifically concern me, I never have any fucks to give. My family, have even pinned this characteristic on me, there’s the voice of reason, my brother, my loud and moody sister, and then me who just doesn’t care. So for something to effect my emotions and make me freak out means I’m either obsessed with it or it’s just very important to me.
This is the first thing that comes to mind to write about because as soon as I woke up today, I became incredibly anxious about getting tattoos.. again, because if we’re gonna be serious here, it happens often. Now, if anyone out there reading knows me on a personal level or even if you don’t, just check out my tumblr and my obsession is pretty obvious. What makes me anxious is the fact that living under the roof I am now I can’t even begin, all the plans I have. Since those two people who gave me life will go to either two extremes, give me a box to live in, or chop off the body part that has ink. (even though I do have one already that says “Stay True” on my ribs, but that’s not hard to hide) This burns my soul thinking about when I will be able to afford to move out and start getting bigger pieces on more noticeable places on my skin. At this broke university student rate, the thought of how far from now that will be makes me want to throw up.
Then after I’ve slowly and painfully processed those ideas, I think about all the sessions and time they’re all going to take to complete, where I picture myself as some old lady sitting in a tattoo parlour. And that is just not what I have planned for my life.
In all honesty, this one the biggest, first world problems that gets to me, and there are many more, for example one that probably should take a higher spot, my second semester tuition I’m going to have to pull out of my ass. But Life goes on..
It’s weird though, because when it comes to a lot of other things or people that don’t specifically concern me, I never have any fucks to give. My family, have even pinned this characteristic on me, there’s the voice of reason, my brother, my loud and moody sister, and then me who just doesn’t care. So for something to effect my emotions and make me freak out means I’m either obsessed with it or it’s just very important to me.
This is the first thing that comes to mind to write about because as soon as I woke up today, I became incredibly anxious about getting tattoos.. again, because if we’re gonna be serious here, it happens often. Now, if anyone out there reading knows me on a personal level or even if you don’t, just check out my tumblr and my obsession is pretty obvious. What makes me anxious is the fact that living under the roof I am now I can’t even begin, all the plans I have. Since those two people who gave me life will go to either two extremes, give me a box to live in, or chop off the body part that has ink. (even though I do have one already that says “Stay True” on my ribs, but that’s not hard to hide) This burns my soul thinking about when I will be able to afford to move out and start getting bigger pieces on more noticeable places on my skin. At this broke university student rate, the thought of how far from now that will be makes me want to throw up.
Then after I’ve slowly and painfully processed those ideas, I think about all the sessions and time they’re all going to take to complete, where I picture myself as some old lady sitting in a tattoo parlour. And that is just not what I have planned for my life.
In all honesty, this one the biggest, first world problems that gets to me, and there are many more, for example one that probably should take a higher spot, my second semester tuition I’m going to have to pull out of my ass. But Life goes on..
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