At this moment in time, I feel young and insecure. Life is scary again. It's this big thing out there. Not something I have a handle on. And all of my lack of experience is in the forefront of my mind. I'm getting into that paranoid state where I wonder things like "how can I ever possibly hope to teach about that, when the closest I've come is my imagination?" - and this applies to many, many things.
For a while there, I knew I was 23. And I was happy to be 23. It was the right age mentally as well as physically. Now I think I may as well be 13 again.