Waiting

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I have been waiting. I did not choose to wait, but that's not the point. The point is, I HAVE been waiting, and I will continue to wait. I've been waiting for my life to change; waiting for someone to help me change my life. I tried to do it on my own, you know. I tried to fix everything myself and I ended up in the bathroom trying to talk myself out of a panic attack (as if by applying logic to feelings would make the pain go away!). It worked; I'm still here and I'm still waiting. I can't do anything! I can't move forward, I can't fall back. I remain stuck, waiting. Is it frustrating, reading the word "WAITING" so many times in this passage? Well, it's frustrating LIVING the word "WAITING". I am skittish and unfocused--I can't finish anything. My head is clogged with half-developed ideas that onced seemed so full of promise. I'm torn and frustrated and misplaced. I'm way too old to feel this way! I'm an adult, my mother told me, I need to grow up. But I can't. I'm waiting. I'm waiting for someone to clarify me. I'm waiting for someone to validate me. I'm waiting for someone to tell me how to be independent. I'm waiting for someone to tell me how I can save my own life. I'm waiting for someone to tell me how to stop waiting.





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