I don't know why I am here. And that's not some deep revelation. I don't know why I'm here, on buzzfeed, writing as if I am blogging though I know no one is reading this. It's a draft. That's all it will ever be. I worry a lot. And I have never seen a doctor or therapist, so I hate to throw out the word "anxiety" like it's a rubber ball being passed around from person to person. I don't know what is wrong with me. I am happy, generally. In fact, I was voted "Most Likely to Brighten Someone's Day" in high school. High school. I loved high school, which is apparently an unpopular opinion. My dad claims I must have had a very different high school experience than he. I might have. I don't know. I guess I just choose what bothers me and what doesn't. Usually the most minimal, unimportant things bother me whereas the big things tend to just slip off of my duck's back. Big things. I guess not big things. I don't know what big things are. But I usually worry about things like putting money excess change back into my wallet as I am standing in front of a cash register while a line of people standing behind me stares as I stuff it in and zip it up and walk away. I take out the money after I sit in my car and fold it back up. I don't worry about how I will pay for college but how I go to the Bursar's office and actually pay, for college. Where exactly I go and who I hand checks to and what I say and what I am wearing and how to not seem like I am thinking about all of those things. College. I don't want to go. I do. I don't. I do. I'm a communications major. I was a secondary education major and a month before I even entered my freshman year of college I changed it. I'll change it again. Probably. I don't know. Why am I going? To get a good job, to waste my time and money, to educate myself, to drown in responsibilities, to meet new people, to slowly decay just as I've seen nearly every other college kid do, to find myself, to lose myself. Losing myself. I'm a Christian. I'm not supposed to lose myself. God is with me. I am fine. Everything is fine. No, I sin, I'm not fine, this is sin. What is sin? I am supposed to love everyone. I find that easier than loving myself. I am supposed to love everyone AS I love myself. What does that mean for me? I am so conflicted when it comes to this whole religion thing. I like my beliefs, but who really knows what is right? I believe in love, but other Christians don't always. So what does that mean? I am so conflicted when it comes to everything. Nothing is clear-cut. But that's the beauty of life. I know nothing. But that is the mystery. Is ambivalence a part of life or is it a part of weakness? I am conflicted. Conflict. I hate watching the news. And I hate being forced into a category. How am I supposed to define myself when I don't even know what I am? I am strong. I am weak. I am confident. I am afraid. I am smart. I am ignorant. That is the beauty of life. But that is the source of my inner turmoil. Turmoil. Why am I like this? This life is beautiful. I have a loving family. I have a wonderful boyfriend. I have strong, meaningful friendships. I am letting them down. But they are here for me. But I am a burden. They love me. They are pretending. They're not. What am I? I am human. I feel like this, too. Omg same. I don't know why I am here. Maybe that is a revelation. Maybe not. This is a draft.