Manic Pixie Dream Girl (Or Same Story, Different Version)

I'm so ready to move forward with my life. But it's so difficult.

We're trained to think that our lives don't really start until we graduate high school, or college.

When have a steady job, when we start a serious relationship.
Or when we get married.
Or when we have children.

I feel like, if I'm not careful, I'll have lived my whole life waiting for it to start.
Besides, I don't want to do half those things, anyway.

Lately, everything is an irritation. Everything is sharp edges and hostility.

And I'm not making it any easier on myself.
Picking fights.
Complaining about my problems.
Obsessing over a future that I'm too afraid to trigger.

And I keep making excuses. So many excuses.

As soon as I talk to my parents.
When I've bought a car.
I have to wait until I have some money saved.
Everyone already thinks I'm flighty enough.

Simultaneously lonely and sick of people, I just want to run.
Go somewhere no one knows my name and start again.
Really do something.

But fear, or obligation, or this frustrating sense of responsibility....
one of them is standing in my way.
Perhaps they all are.

I feel so trapped, and knowing it's partly my own fault makes it that much worse.