Normally, when we talk about commitment issues, we talk about people who just can’t settle down with a partner: the guy that just won’t pop the question or the girl that pushes everyone away before they get too close. That’s never been me. If anything, I get attached to people far too easily. (I’m looking at you, Anxiety and Insecurity.) No. Me? I can’t commit to myself. I can’t commit to my health and happiness. I can’t commit to hobbies or fun with other people. I flake on my friends and I flake on myself. I get so overwhelmed by everything all the time. It just seems easier to sit down, alone in my room, and quit. Except that it’s not. Not really. Not in the long run.

 

I have started the same journey, over and over again. I can never decide (for very long) which way to go, what I want to do, what drives me, even what I like half the time. I can’t decide how to take my notes so I copy them and recopy them until I’ve done only that for so long I’m behind on everything else. I can’t decide how to organize my day so I switch things and rearrange things until all I’ve done all day is rewrite the same to-do list over and over again. I can’t decide how best (and most quickly) to get healthy so I teeter endlessly on the thin line somewhere between forcing myself to eat everything to prove that I can and refusing to eat most things to prove that I don’t have to.

 

I don’t know who I am, what I want, or where I’m going. And it’s terrifying.

 

I keep looking for the right thing, the right way, the right answer. I don’t think there is one, if I’m honest. But the endless quest to find it is pretty good at distracting me from the reality of the moment in front of me.

 

Maybe we’re not supposed to know. Maybe we’re not supposed to be anything in particular. Maybe we just are. Maybe what I really need to commit to is being present in the moment, being honest with myself, and putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.