the room of mirrors

You look at yourself and all you can see are problems that you need to fix.
I wrote that in June, leaving that one line in my drafts. It's weird how you can know exactly what you're feeling in the future. Unless you never stop feeling it.
I'm in university now. So far it has simultaneously been the best and worst experience imaginable. I discovered that I have an incredible amount of things to learn but I am on the right track and I think this is where I need to be. Every opportunity I've had here has helped me grow and learn and develop more than I ever would have expected. Three months here has felt like three years; it's hard to imagine that I have so much more time here. However, that thought becomes more terrifying, knowing that I have that much more to go.
All my fears are surfacing constantly, taking turns breaking through the thin walls I've built. If I trusted my instincts, my arms would be bloody again and I would make my bed my permanent sanctuary. You may be perhaps wondering why I feel this way. Or maybe you already know me well enough to know this is not a rare occurrence. Either way, I will explain, if only for the potential catharsis it could bring.
I'm scared. I'm scared of getting bored, of losing my passion. Have you ever listened to a song that you loved so many times that you get annoyed and stopped? I want to love what I love doing. I don't want to stop loving it.
I'm scared that I'll be forgettable. My mark left on this world will be nothing but a shadow, a vague and uninspired brushstroke in the corner of a masterpiece. I want to mean something. I want to have a purpose. I want to be remembered for more than who I was but how I made people feel.
I'm scared of always chasing people who don't need me as much as I need them. It's been years. Years of constant anxiety and insecurity. Years of silent hope and masked disappointment. And here I am. Almost two decades old and I still feel like I'm begging the people in my life to stay, to want to be here. I want the people I love to love me back. I want them to feel that I am the air in their lungs, not just another star in their galaxy. I want someone to choose me first for once.
I am scared. I am terrified. I don't want to fail. I don't want to be lonely. But I'm not seeing any doors leading out of this room I'm trapped in. All I see are mirrors, reflecting back the image of a girl who is grasping at everything and nothing all at once. All I see are cracks in her armour and the crossed out ink of words left unspoken. I see the fear in her eyes and the rapid beating of her heart. I see her. And I don't like what I see.