So, if one were to look at my previous journals, they would find that my birthday is on the Fifteenth of October. Except this year, I'm turning Eighteen. That's right, the big One Eight, as some would probably say.

Yeah, my childhood is quite close to being over. Which is... I honestly don't know how to feel. On one hand, I look forward to the independence, but on the other hand, I'm depressed at all the missed opportunities for my younger self. I still look back on my past, and I feel like my teenage years were just useless, and I also worry that my future will be just as useless.

Which brings me to how I feel now. I'm having anxiety... again. And it's annoying. I am taking medication daily, one pill a day. Though the recommended dose is two pills, it has helped a little. I'm thinking I might increase the dose to the recommended amount soon. Just by a little bit, obviously not too much.

I hate the idea of drugs with every fiber of my being, even if they are meant to be medically beneficial. But since my brain is unfortunately not functioning the way it should, I guess I kind of need them. They're basically St John's Wort pills, so they're not even that dangerous.

As I am typing this, my anxiety has manifested in the form of a dreadful feeling within the pit of my stomach, and it comes and goes during the day. The fact that my anxiety is causing me to feel things in my body could be a sign of how potentially serious it is. And it usually remains constant during the night.

Negative emotions for me are more amplified when it's nighttime. I also procrastinate a lot, which also amplifies negative emotions in me. Not to mention, it interferes with my sleeping schedule. One time, I stayed up until 6:00 AM, and woke up at 2:00 PM. I also have a constant daily fear of the passing of time, which is usually the main drive for my anxiety.

One other thing, is that I usually write these journals online because I always feel like there needs to be some record of my out there somewhere. I know it sounds dramatic, but I always feel like if something ever happened to me, I would at least want people to know about who I was. It's an admittedly stupid fear, but I still haven't found a way to cope with it. It's always there, even as I type this.

It is at least reassuring that people are going to read this. Maybe not many, but it's enough for me.

I'll update if anything else happens. And thank you for taking the time to read my gibberish.