Having been intermittently glum for the past year, failed to maintain a stable relationship with family and people surround me, I almost enjoyed mess up everything deliberately that I could make an excuse that I was such a loser to accomplish anything. Ironically, people get used to my emotional and unexpected behaviors, even tag it as "genius".
Time went on and I suddenly woke up at the beginning of the new year, turning to 25-years old. Life has never been so meaningful for me under the unavoidable results of time in both mental and physical way. The youth, past 24 years, mixed with sustaining self-doubt and unclear motivation is really a tolerance as an unambitious student, an indifferent daughter, an unfriendly member of the office.
I make up my minds to take control of myself and precise my time, as most of the people do in the world before hateful regrets filling my heart and illness threatening my body. But how?
Self-control is so hard to me that I cut off every possible opportunity to look back on everything I had done, which means I refuse reflection myself and ignore feedback from others (you may be surprised how irresponsible I am as a grown-up adult). Even the history list of browse is scary for me.
So I start to force myself to check history in an acceptable way, like the note I wrote yesterday, people I followed in twitter years ago, apps on my phone I seldom used, and I wrote them down in a new notebook as for an introduction to a stranger that I was so unfamiliar with. I found it an encouraged start.