It’s officially 2026. My holiday break from school is coming to a close and the new semester looms ever closer. Oh, and I graduated high school ten years ago. Fuck.

So we all know time doesn’t exist anymore since the pandemic, right? For me, the passing of time has been even more stupid because I struggle to do literally everything.

Well, not everything — but a lot of stuff I should be good at or at least competent at. The bitch of it all is that I feel like sometimes I can do the thing and sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I just freeze because I don’t know how to keep living life. I’ve mentioned this before, but at my big age I often wonder why people younger than me can just “figure it out” while I’m terrified of everything.

I’m terrified of dying despite at times being passively (and years ago, actively) suicidal. I’m terrified of making a huge, irrevocable mistake. I’m scared of being “exposed.” Meaning, people will discover that I feel like a total scared, baby, loser inside and confirm that it’s true. I’m scared of making people mad. I’m scared people won’t like me. I’m scared of hurting someone badly, either physically or mentally. I’m terrified of a family member dying unexpectedly. I’m scared of getting in trouble. I’m scared people can read my mind. I’m scared I’ll never get my shit together and be more independent. I’m scared I’ll feel like this forever.

You might read all that and think, “Wow, Rosie, that’s a lot of irrational fears based on no evidence whatsoever.” You would be correct! Even so, I am deeply afraid to live because I constantly feel like the event that will ruin my life is right around the corner. Now, will hiding away forever help my situation? Probably not. Definitely not. In fact, I’ve wasted a lot of time being afraid to live. Like, my entire early twenties. My old therapist and I used to talk about it a lot. I can’t seem to ever shake the fear, guilt, and shame that runs my life.

With the new semester on the horizon, and a winter break full of more bedrotting than I wanted to do, I’m scared. Go figure. It’s new, it’s a harder schedule, it’s back into the fire after too much time dwelling. I keep asking myself if I can do it. I keep thinking about the mountain that is seven more semesters.

So here I am, just a lady in a sweater with the wind blowing, shielding myself from the cold, looking off wistfully in the distance. The ever-present longing that haunts me summed up by this diva and her cardigan. Slay.

♡