CANNOCK CHASE

 November 16th, 2025

I woke up today meaning to do my laundry, study for my test tomorrow, workout, buy more ice cream sandwiches, and meal prep.

It's going on 6PM and all I managed to do was meal prep. One less thing off my plate tomorrow. 

I couldn't find the energy or will to get up and go run errands. I have no excuse, I slept nine hours and ate a big delicious breakfast, I simply did not feel like leaving my bed.

I stayed home all day analyzing the prints I've been working on. Dissecting the conditions of this house and trying to figure out a plan out of it moving forward. I always hear people saying that progress isn't linear, sometimes it doesn't feel like progress is being made at all. 

I feel like I stand in place and the world is spinning around me, but I haven't moved an inch. On those days, I tend to cry out of sheer frustration, and today was one of those days. You wonder, "what am I doing wrong?" or "what do I have to do to get past this?" 

And there's no answer because you are meant to answer that yourself as an adult. It hits me sometimes, I am no longer a girl. I'm entering my mid-twenties and there's a disbelief that comes with that.

I used to look ahead at fifteen and imagined at twenty five, I'd be something wonderful. By that, I mean, I would have cool friends, a cool apartment, a cool job, lots of money, an impressive fiancee (at least boyfriend). 

In fifteen year old vetiveroil's imagination, she would grow up to be something to gawk at. 

I don't want to wallow, and admittedly, I haven't quite hit twenty five yet, so it's too early to count myself out completely, but I have none of those things. I look backwards at myself at fifteen and think about how aspirational life was in her brain - maybe by design because at that time, she was as hollow as can be. 

I also look forward at thirty-five year old me and wonder about her. Who she is, what she has, who surrounds her. Are the things I am working so tirelessly for now even important? Do they not come true no matter how much I work now? 

I guess when I think retrospectively I get sad and disappointed. When I think ahead, it's hard to ground myself in reality because my brain wants all of these grandiose things as a form of retribution for all I've lacked, and all I still don't have. This reduces the chance of having them even further. 

So I'm sitting here today, not fully in any realm, but somewhere they all intersect somehow. I guess you'd call that the present, but I've been present before, and that's not where I am now. 

Anyway, what I've been analyzing about that old house is the shame I have about growing up in it in the first place. It's hard to connect because I keep asking myself if they other person is somehow catching glimpses of that filthy house. 

I sanitize well, I'd like to think. I shower before leaving the house, I spend time carefully piecing myself together. But I worry sometimes that I left a seam open and given the right opportunity, they'll peek into it and see I'm a fraud. Then, I also worry that they'll see it and pity me, or realize that I am someone they should steer clear of. I don't know why I do that to myself. 

I guess what I ultimately wished growing up - and wish now is not to be defined by that house.

To wake up and be surrounded by normalcy. To have friends, to be wanted someplace.

I wanted to be shaped by normal things, and have normal experiences. 

I wanted to have a normal house, a safe house. 

I don't want that stench on me anymore. I never really did, but at some point, I learned to put up with it. And keep to myself about it. I think I totally disappeared during that period of time. 

I'm still struggling to be here again. Each day I tell myself these efforts will compound and one day I'll have it all! That has yet to happen. 

I'm working on these things, but it all just doesn't feel better rewarding. 

Not only am I ashamed of that house, but I'm ashamed that at twenty-four,  I still live there. 

Song of the day: Cannock Chase - Labi Siffre 

- vetiveroil