Another Existential Crisis

I thought I was doing good,

Pushing back insecurities of all the things that haven't happened yet to me,

And not comparing my journey to someone else's,

Until this evening,

Which has hit me with a bag full of every insecurity,

Every failure,

Everything that hasn't happened to me yet,

And caging me with the crazy thoughts,

Pushing me behind the start line again,

It's a long journey, again,

From the start, again.

is it the hormones, or is it existential crisis?