i think this is why

i have always hated studying english literature. I love words, and i love books. i particularly love poetry, with it's rhythms and melodies and imagery.
I love T.S.Eliot. i used his works as the basis of art works in high school, specifically Rhapsody on a Windy Night.
right now he is hurting me.
I am struggling to write an essay about "the fragmentation and failure of identity in the modern city", in reference to the work of T.S. Eliot. i "get" his work, i understand what he is saying to me, but i understand it in imagery and art work, not fragmentation and failure of identity. and it was pointed out to me tonight that my biggest issue/block with this is that i don;t want to face my own identity or lack there of. and that is true and correct. I am fairly aware of the fact that there are things in my life that i "handle" that i should probably go and deal with. do i have a sense of abandonment that means i fear commitment? or am i just using that as an excuse to make myself feel better about being the dumpER, rather than the dumpEE. have those two nights of drunken misadventure as a teen had a bigger and deeper impact on my life than i recognise. i don;t know, and i am scared to find out. i am scared to discuss these issues with anyone who may be able to give me the answers. scared to find out the truth. I handle my emotions, my possible (but mostly undiagnosed) depression. I have a good strong brain that makes me get through the days, and i feel both the highs and lows of emotion, but not in a manic way. but am i just handling something that i really should be dealing with? would my life be that much different if i went to see a professional about this and discovered that, yes, i do have issues that need to be brought up and discussed, and put to bed. or maybe i have no issues and i am just a psychiatric hypochondriac.

But i'm scared to find out.

that is all.