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TRIGGER WARNING: DON'T let the cupcake theme distract you. Above all, I'm gonna talk about anxiety and depression. Please don't let my night-thoughts let you down.  

Somewhere in Italy, 05.15.18, 4.57 am

I can't see further my laptop' screen in my dark kitchen where I am, but I'm sure my two dogs are sound asleep. Every now and then I check out on the youngest of them, Kj - Simil Golden Retriever, 1yo - is not ... er, you know, licking his wee-wee for he - the smartest doggo - licked it so much that he got himself an *sparks fly* infection!! 

Literally can't wait for the moment I will be able to buy the prescritions and the elizabethan collar he needs to be cured. ATM I'm totally broke, failed, in the red, out of cash, busted, poor?? Yea, without work or study licence that's kinda the way I deserved to end.
Mami doesn't have a job either, she has been fired nine months ago. I must tell you, it's pretty hard to go on nine moths without a determinate amount of money that gives you the confidence that you'll be able to get through the month, or even the day with a proper meal on the table.  

Anyways, today I was thinking, just because, in an ordinary night in my thousand sleepless, that I really have no future. I really really don't. I know: wow! Bu-hu, another teenager who feels like she have no future!!! Just so you know, kArEN, there are billions of young adults who feels like their own life is falling apart - and I completely know this, but since we're here, let's talk about it.

I'm eighteen, this year nineteen, and I live in a city that gives me no good chances of work (not even bad chances!), (I gotta admit that) I'm quite afraid of moving elsewhere. And I'm not even good at anything.
Zero talents. I left high school while I was struggling with sever anxiety and panic, following a sweet, deadly depression - nothing to worry about, uh? - and now I'm home, enjoying myself.
I must say,  I'm not whining in the respect of staying home for I gain serious problems when I'm out there. I'm exhausted most of the time in my day and socializing stuff gets me depressed (more than usual).
BTW, for the next school year I'm gonna start what we call 'Late-School' which are scholastic years for people who didn't had the chance to start or finish High School. Instead of five years you do three years and then you can go to the UNI and graduate. The thing is you don't attend the classes in the morning, but in the late afternoon. Anyways, this is in the next school year, but what now? Besides feeling a complete failure, what do I do? 
I was also thinking, while I was watching a movie, that lately I really can't feel anything anymore, emotionally. Mostly I'm feeling sad and tired all the time, physically and mentally. 

I know that this period of famine in the house will eventually end, but I know that I'll keep feeling like that for - who knows how much more time? This to say that, no kArEn, I don't really think my conditions are due to the domestic climate. 

I know the solution to all my psychological issues but talking from the first time I can say that prescriptions scares the hell out of me. 

It was the opposite of a nice and beautiful experience - I've never felt so far from any form of healing. Plus, I don't trust my suicidal instincts. I know that the first time is almost never the right one, that you have to try a lot of different drugs before finding the right one, the one who works, but I'm not ready to get through this special cicle in Hell. My legs begin to tremble at the thought, with that strange, familiar feeling of nausea that tightens my stomach.

Speaking of something else, I was also thinking about how much I like to write. How many, *how many* stories I started and never finished, all of them saved on my laptop, all of them under some name like 'IDK BUT I LIKE IT' cause I get so hype when I start some new tale, a new story, new characters, new places and thoughts... 

And here I rush myself correcting me for you can count on the tips of the fingers of one only hand how many times I started a story with a real beginning. Usually when I think of a new story I often start with the unrolling, the progress of the whole tale, or even I catapult directly to the end, and while I write I thik: 'Ah, who cares about the beginning? It will then come itself, the important thing now is that you're writing! After the whole, long writing-block period you had now you're writing!'

Stupid, uh?

Yea, I agree. 

However, if it wasn't unclear how less (zero) talent I have, when I start a new story with a real beginning then I automatically can't think about a good end, or I miss the whole progress (and maybe this time I had already thought about an end, lmao shoot me).

At the end of the day (let's say so,cuz if I start on my opinion with time - 'The continuous, indefinite process of existence and events that happen in an apparently irreversible succession through the past, present and future' thanks wikipedia for sharing with me) I thought it would have been a cool pastime to write a blog, where you never know who reads me - or if someone will ever reads me.
My aim is to feel a little less alone when the night comes and I'm alone with me and my thoughts. 

So I started it with no high hopes but genuinely. 

Woah! By writing and thinking about what I wanna write (and check my dog so he can't lick himself) it started dawining! 

And at this point I will express one last thought: f*ck I hope to sleep!

Just kidding, I really hope that if someone had read this had a good nice reading - and now I really go, byeee <3