On being twenty

Yesterday I turned twenty.
Twenty years of life.
Breathing this air.
I don't know how I feel.
I didn't want to be twenty.
It terrified me.
I panicked and broke down the day before.
I don't really know why.
Probably because my 19th birthday was the best day of my life.
Because twenty isn't a teenager anymore.
Because life goes so fast.
Because everything changes.
Everything is transient.
But this isn't a bad thing.
It is just fear.
I remember everything about the last ten years of my life so clearly and sometimes I don't feel like I have changed at all. I know I have. But i am still that girl.
I still feel stuck like that sometimes.
I hated being a teenager.
Or at least I don't think I was very happy.
I didn't feel at one.
Or like I fitted in.
I hated school.
I spent two years in mental hospital.
I was sick.
I was depressed.
I fell in love.
I fell out of love.
I fell in love again.
I went up and I went down.
I ate.
I didn't eat.
I cried.
I cried.
I smiled.
I laughed.
I became and artist.
I became an actor.
I grew.
I travelled.
I drew.
I screamed.
I shouted a lot.
I hurt things.
I got hurt.
I hurt myself.
I haven't spent a day doing nothing.
Apart from when I was forced.
I was imprisoned by others / I was trapped by myself.
I achieved.
I found myself.
I lost myself.
It keeps on going.
I drunk.
I drunk to much.
Had bad sex.
Good sex.
Used sex.
I made friends.
I lost friends.
I learnt to talk.
I learnt to listen.
I watched the world.
I still do.
I am changing.
And trying to change for the better.
Made rules.
Broke rules.
Challenged myself.
Always challenged myself.
Grew selfish.
Cared about others.

Change is permanent.
Fear is hard to overcome.
The future is in my hands.
Who knows what twenty means.
I had a great day.

Me at twenty