Yet, no matter what I do to distract myself, or how fast I try to run from my problems, I can't get far. I'm still stuck sleeping upstairs, though not soundly. I'm still worried about the fate of my laptop, and how long it's gonna take to finish the basement. College especially weighs down on my mind. I'm absolutely terrified of it. Much more so than I am excited to go. Choosing a major and classes does nothing except fuel the flames of my worsening identity crisis. I've reiterated thousands of times, the fact that I am beyond wholly unprepared to even begin fantasizing about what lies ahead. I thought I'd be six feet underground by now, if not very close to it. And, yet, I seem to have defied death itself all thanks to science mixed in with Divine Intervention. 

When I try to visualize my future, I see nothing but an endless void. I can't even plan out an event for next week, let alone weeks, months, and years into my future. Everything I do, for the most part, is on a whim. Yet, I'm surrounded by people my age who seem to be able to plan things out just fine. My peers all seem to have an idea of who they are, what they believe, and what they wish to be. There are hundreds, if not thousands or even millions of people right now, who are my age and are already well into their lifelong careers and have partners and families of their own. Hell, even my own parents and grandparents were married and had careers and children extremely young! But, here I am at twenty, utterly at a loss of my own identity, who I currently am, what I wish to be. So on...

There are some things about myself that I suspect to be true. Sexuality wise, I've never fallen for anyone, or even been slightly attracted to someone in a sexual way. I've never looked at someone and thought, "Damn, they look good." or, "I'd love to date/kiss/sleep with them!" I've never liked kids nor had the desire to have kids of my own someday. It's not that I'm repulsed by sex or dating or having a family of my own. I just don't like any of that stuff, similarly to how I just can't stand calliflower. It's not that I've been hurt or traumatized by sex or sexuality. I just don't like it, and I don't know why, just like I have no real issues with the taste or texture of calliflower. I just don't care for it. And, that's okay!

Perhaps, this is just a phase, and I'll change my mind about it in college. But, I'm not gonna hold my breath. When I talked about my asexuality to my parents when I was entering middle/high school, they more or less told me to "just wait", and when I reached X grade I'd suddenly start to like someone. But, that didn't come true. In fact, the older I got, the less I liked being around others, the less interested I became in the idea of having a partner or children some day (if it was possible to have less than a 0% interest in that stuff). And the more I tried to keep a low profile and just do my own thing, as just doing my own thing gave me much more joy than trying to shoehorn friendships with people I had a very, very hard time connecting with in any meaningful or worthwhile way. It was basically instinctual for me to turn down a date and shut down anyone who had a crush on me. Not in a mean way, I'll add, or out of any fear or dismay towards the person. I just made it clear that I didn't feel the same towards that person. They were merely friendly acquaintances, and I had no hard feelings towards them. I just never was interested in romantic relationships. 

Sadly, for the longest time, I thought something was very wrong with me in regards to sexuality. I knew many people who were openly straight, gay, bi, etc. But, I didn't know anyone who didn't seem to have a sexual attraction to someone. I worried that may have some serious hormonal imbalances that may lead to health issues later down the line. I worried that I was "broken" or "traumatized" in some way, and spent years in therapy trying to find any sort of reason or trauma associated with sex and relationships. To be honest, there was a great deal of trauma stemming from my parents' choice of really shitty partners. But, even once I worked a lot of that out in therapy, and many of my social fears were gone, I still lacked any interest in the kissy-cuddly side of life. 

It wasn't until very, very, very recently (I'm talking within just a couple months), that I discovered that I'm not alone and never was. There are other people who exist who don't desire anything romantic, for no other reason than it just doesn't appeal to them. Discovering that has largely dispelled my fears that something is wrong with me, at least in that respect. It has also allowed me to accept that I just may be asexual for life. And, that's totally valid and okay!

Career/interest wise, I'm just starting to find out what I'm good at and what brings me joy. Working with animals and nature is something that brings me oodles of satisfaction and joy! Writing and being alone in the comfort of my home gives me lots of peace and contentment (and subsequently joy). I also love to take things apart and put them back together, finding solutions to problems and building things from scratch. The arts interest me as well, though I don't know if I could make a viable career off of them. 

The prospect of finding a career of any kind absolutely petrifies me. Sure, I have a pretty good idea what my talents are and what I enjoy. But, when it comes to work, I have no real clue what I'm good at. From previous experience, I know that I don't want to work at an office where lots of people are around me at once. I also know that I don't want to work in a big city, because people and traffic tend to get on my nerves very easily. Anything that is extremely hazardous in ways (such as mechanical work, farming, guiding hunts, construction, anything in the medical field), while fun and fulfilling, probably isn't a very good idea for me to get into as a career, considering my physical health problems. 

That narrows down my career choices quite substantially. But, what those viable careers are, I don't know. I am haunted by the fact that I don't know what I could be doing for the next forty or fifty years after graduating college. Last thing I want to do is end up in a soul-crushing career, no matter how much money it makes me. But, I also don't want to test my luck too much and not worry about money at all; I want to make enough so I don't end up dead broke if/when a health crisis rears its ugly head.

However, knowing my luck, I'll probably end up in a job that I hate making barely enough money to foot the bills, let alone save up enough to retire off of. I hope that I'm wrong.