Maybe we're all a little self destructive.

Maybe, just maybe.

Does it ever occur to anyone that they have unrealistic expectations of themselves. Just days where you wake up and feel too tired of life to keep going on, pushing forward into an inescapable pit of failure? Perhaps I do, maybe I feel like I need to be the best, doing as much as possible so that I can make everyone happy... That's all I really want.

4 years is not enough for college.  Though, I'll probably say differently when I'm ready to graduate. I want to be able to enjoy the downtime, while getting all the degrees I want.

Pharmaceutical Sciences... Materials Science... Chemical Engineering with concentrations in Nanotechnology and Biomolecular... and a minor in Biotechnology... and the University Honors Program.

Maybe it's a lot. Maybe I don't have to do all of these things. But I feel like I need to.

Maybe I'm a little self destructive. I want to take on everything, I want to be the best I can be... I want to make people happy. But even if I could do all of this, I feel like I still wouldn't feel like I had done anything at all. I wouldn't feel fulfilled, because I love to put myself through hell.

As silly as it sounds, I love being up at all hours. It's a badge of honor for me to know that if I need to I can stay up for four days straight on only 40 minutes of sleep. I love the feel of caffeine rushing through my body, making me feel like more of a human being, more alive. The burn of the carbonation as I chug it and the gentle gnaw of my stomach when I haven't eaten. I like feeling like I'm doing something, like I am legitimately achieving something... like I am worth something.

Sometimes, I wonder if I'm the only one. I doubt that I am, when I watch my friends keep themselves up to study for tests relentlessly, getting blissfully drunk, or working themselves to exhaustion so that they don't have to think. 

I'm not going to lie. I've been self destructive, I've cut, and I've starved, and I've thrived on punishing myself for imperfections. And on some level, I suppose that those habits never really go away. You'll always find new ways to torture yourself if you want to. In ways less obvious than bleeding all over the place.

I look at this morning, and feel the buzz of caffeine in my body, contrasting the lethargic silence of a Sunday and I feel no regret. I look at my life and what I put myself through, while I feel like shit doing it all, and I realize everyone has their own self destruction. The habits of old never really go away.

 ...and I don't think I want them to.

I'm not sorry.