The countdown has begun. Two more days to turning 22. And somehow, I'm not looking forward to it.

Not the way I looked forward to every birthday from the twelfth to the eighteenth year. Short of shaking pom-poms and doing cartwheels, I did everything I could possibly think of to celebrate growing up. Every year had been different then. I had looked back at a weridly wonderful year spent, and looked forward to the coming one with hope and anticipation. And yet, somehow, for the same exact reason, I'd like to pause and rewind my life a bit before the 22 arives with its full and final glory. I dont wanna turn 22. I try looking back and then I wish I would just frikkin stop with the whole trying to look back business. Because I have nothing, absolutely nothing to show for my last 4 years. My life's been at a stasis since I turned 19. I see no change in myself. Except the ones that are for the worst and nothing to write home about. Instead of growing as a person and an individual, I have apparently reversed and lost great big chunks of myself, chunks that I considered good and pure and simple and worthy. There have been no achievements at any level. I have not improved in anyway. My mental, physical and emotional states have pretty much detoriated. I have nothing to show for the last 4 years of my life. Nothing.

And that is what depresses me about turning 22. Happy Birthday to me!