My family usually laughs at me, gets mad at me, tells me my head is in the clouds. They say I never pay attention to my surroundings and that I need to do so in order to be a functioning adult. That I need to look further ahead to see the bigger picture. Well, I am freshly eighteen, the middle child, recently graduated, and absolutely terrified as to what comes next. To be honest, I didn't think I would make it this far.

I barely passed high school. There, I said it. I know I'm intelligent, and I loved my school with a passion, but I had no idea what I was doing. Some days it was so hard to climb out of bed and face the day. Some days I found my mind being almost completely off, and I found that most things I said ended up making me look and sound like that one comedic relief friend on a TV show; so stupid that it was somehow humorous. Add that on to math classes, taking care of my loved ones every day, trying to still have time to make myself happy, and I found myself being one straw away from losing my mind.

I have grown up seeing the adults struggle. Struggle to bring in money from work even as the prices continue to rise, but their paychecks do not. I have seen them struggle to smile even when the house is clean and there is a dinner made for them, because they are too worn out to do anything else. I have seen the college kids break down, burn out, and stare remotely even at a carton of ice cream. And I didn't (and still don't) want to be like them.

And so I decided to take it a day at a time.

I would categorize my family as first priority, my friends as second, and my school work as third. I couldn't take it on all at once, I knew my limits. I wished I could do more, but I couldn't. If I stepped back to see the bigger picture it was almost as though I was looking into a deep chasm, with only a very faint light shining a tiny strip the whole way through. And that wasn't good enough for me, so I tried to focus on the stars around me, finally in my grasp. My loved ones. It took me so long to have a decent hold on them, that I was terrified of losing them.

You see, I've gone without friends before. I've stopped talking to loved ones and isolated myself among books. And while written words are excellent companions, it's not the same as getting a hug or being told that you are loved. So I focused on that. I didn't want to go back to what I once was. And I didn't know what would happen the next day. Life's short, as they say. And I didn't want to ruin it by stressing about the future.

But now here I stand, looking at the chasm. My loved ones are slightly dwindled, but I'm still proud of the ones that I've kept. But now it's time for me to focus on myself, and to build a flashlight to help me lead the way. No one is going to be able to light it up for me, and I can never ask them to. This is on me. My fears. My uncertainty. And I have to find a way to get through it. Get a job, find out who I am now and who I plan to be as an adult. I'm probably going to fumble a bit, and still be afraid. But just because I didn't think I could make it this far doesn't mean I can't take it further.