I’ve been staring at this blank page for what feels like hours, trying to make sense of the chaos swirling in my mind. Words feel inadequate to express the heaviness I’ve been carrying for so long — the overwhelming weight of uncertainty, fear and relentless self-doubt. I’m stuck in a place I never imagined I’d be, and the more I try to figure things out, the more lost I feel.
I haven't been able to land a job, and that alone feels like a failure stamped on my heart. Every rejection, every “we’ll get back to you” that never does, chips away at my sense of worth. I’ve tried to keep my chin up, telling myself it’s just a rough patch, but weeks turn into months, and the silence from opportunities is deafening. It feels like I'm on an endless treadmill, running as fast as I can but never getting anywhere.
Staying at home has become both a comfort and a curse. There’s safety here, away from the outside world that keeps reminding me of my supposed shortcomings. But within these walls, the pressure mounts from every direction. Family members, well-meaning as they may be, ask the same questions over and over: “What’s your plan? What’s next? Why don’t you just take anything for now?” Their words hit like daggers, even though I know they don’t mean to hurt me. They just don’t understand the storm inside me — the constant, raging battle between who I am and who I think I should be.
Every morning, I wake up with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. I’m trapped in indecision, paralyzed by my inability to figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life. It feels like the world is moving forward while I’m stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper. I see people my age making strides, launching careers, travelling the world, taking risks — and here I am, frozen in place, unsure of everything.
And then there’s the anxiety, my constant companion. It creeps up on me when I least expect it, turning my thoughts against me. It whispers that I’m not good enough, that I’ve wasted time, that I’ll never amount to anything. It’s relentless. It tells me that every decision I make will be the wrong one, so I might as well make none. The worst part is the suffocating guilt — I should be doing more, I should be handling things better, I should be stronger.
Some days, I manage to put on a brave face. I tell myself I’ll figure it out. I make lists, try to set goals, and read books— but none of it sticks. The truth is, I don’t know what’s next. I don’t know how to get out of this rut. And that uncertainty terrifies me.
There are moments when I want to give up. Not in the drastic sense, but in the way that makes me want to curl up in bed and never leave. I crave escape from the relentless questions, from the expectations I can’t meet. But I know deep down that I can’t stay like this forever. Something has to change. I have to believe that this season of my life, as painful and paralyzing as it is, will pass.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this mess, it’s that I’m not alone. So many of us are grappling with the same feelings — anxiety, uncertainty, fear of failure. We’re all doing our best to navigate this confusing, unpredictable world, even when it feels like we’re failing. I’m trying to remind myself of that, to be kinder to myself, even though most days it feels impossible.
I don’t have answers, and I’m not sure when they’ll come. But I’m trying to hold onto hope, even if it’s just a tiny flicker. I’m trying to believe that someday I’ll look back and see this time as a stepping stone, not a dead end. For now, I’m just trying to breathe, to take it one day at a time, and to trust that even in the uncertainty, I’ll find my way.
If you’re reading this and feeling the same weight on your shoulders, just know that I see you. We’ll get through this — somehow, someway — even if the path forward is hidden right now.
Until next time,
MB.
