"What's wrong, JuJu?"
The other day I was trying to read a book and found myself reading the same line over and over. When I finally pushed myself to keep reading, I felt disinterested and so I moved on to another. Same reaction.
I sat and tried to think about things, but I had no relevant thoughts. Instead I felt a sort of silence pressing down, even as a spread over bread, and I immediately felt the need to get up and do something.
I know what is making me feel this way. It's my same old demon, the a-word, the one I've been struggling with since the precipice of puberty: anxiety. I have a lot of changes in my life coming up, and though on the outside I am excited and living things to their greatest extent my subconscious just won't let go of that feeling. I even fooled myself by not thinking about it, by masking it with preoccupation and laughter, but for the past couple of nights I've lied awake, thoughtless, but teeming with inexplicable thoughtless energy.
I'm happy. I'm not even too worried, on the surface, but change is both invigorating and challenging.