No matter what number is placed on my age some things simply don’t change. I still examine my life, and myself with the most critical of eyes. I still wonder, when examining how others respond to me, how I am failing them, and I see my flaws at every turn. I still spiral into bouts of depression, and struggle to manage to motivate myself even under the crushing weight of the thoughts of all that I need to accomplish. That is probably my toughest balance: convincing my brain to stop thinking such horrible things about myself, while the anxiety of failure, and not accomplishing what I need to do fuels that spiral like a warm ocean fuels a hurricane.
It is destructive when it finally hits land.