Sometimes I feel like a little princess
I want it all. I want happiness, wealth, health, a career, a castle and white unicorns, rose gardens and rooftop infinity pools, a knight in shining armor and most of all, I want a four-poster bed and a shiny diamond tiara.
But. It is not possible. And this thought makes me so fucking depressed. I am crushed on the inside, it’s like a punch into my soul to know that I will die not having accomplished it all.
I know to some this might sound weird and cocky and selfish, but ever since I can remember I dreamed of having it ALL. Even my earliest dreams were filled with being famous, popular, rich and beautiful.
I escaped into a secret world of my own where I was the center of the universe.
I have had imaginary friends, imaginary lives filled with unbelievable happiness and beauty, all in my head.
Waking moments haven’t always been the most pleasant so I have over the years weaved an intricate web of alternative lives in my mind where I can escape when the nights are long and dark and I can’t sleep.
I escape there to find the happiness I can’t find in my real life. But when I come back to reality it hits me even harder that I will never ever be beautiful, famous, popular, liked, rich, talented, loved and pampered.
I sometimes don’t want to get up. My life in my head is so much better! The real world is…hard. I am STILL in a job I practically hate, I am so unfulfilled and eat to my depression, feel bloated and fat and ugly all the time, I struggle with anxiety and hopelessness and I don’t know where my life is going at all!
I feel like I should have accomplished more.
I am 28, I have a Master’s Degree and I am an educated immigrant to London; I speak at least three languages fluently and know a few more, I have seen the world and worked most of my life.
I feel like I should be making a lot of money, I should have a better job and be able to buy my own place and be about to have a child and go on holidays.
Yet I am stuck in a moldy house with three housemates I don’t like. My room stinks and we are being evicted anyway. I am in a shit job and I hate my life. Every waking moment I keep thinking I should have gotten there already!
I should be on the verge of happiness. I should. But I am not. And this fills me with anxiety, hopelessness, hate, anger, bitterness, irritation and depression.
So. Here I am. At my desk hating on my life, hating, with no way out of my reality.
Sorry to keep going on about my negative feelings and I really hope that no one is upset by my words, but if I am not honest I would do disservice to myself.
I hope that my emotions change but…I don’t know…if anything will ever change. and then I die.
xx LG xx