Looking back, I now know for sure that I moved to L.A. for the wrong reasons & dyed my hair red for the wrong reasons (easily influenced). I probably should've just said "peace out girl scout" after about the first year here, but I was so damn afraid that people would call me a failure again (like they did when I came home from North Carolina after 9 months. Wonder if they would've said that had they known I came home because I was suicidal & almost threw myself off a bridge one night after downing a bottle of vodka). So, i stuck it out......and I do mean stuck. I'm sure I wouldn't hate it as much here if I was actually doing something, but right now I feel like I'm in such a rut or a holding pattern that I'm once again downright miserable here outside of killing myself working out.
All I can wonder is how my life skewed so far away from "the plan". I mean...shouldn't it be the other way around? Not knowing what the hell you're doing in life at 22 and then have it figured out in your 30s? I feel like I'm regressing in life. Dear Nick Lachey...feel free to walk in with one your "Five-Year Plans" (even though that concept is actually stolen from Russian history)