I have been wandering in the desert for over two years now.

When I graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Design in 2010, I was 23 years old. I didn't have a job and I didn't have a home, so I moved in with my mother. My plan was to secure a design job within the state, during which time I would work a small job and save money.

But for reasons I can't explain, everything just went blank from that point on.

For one, I never ended up securing a job. The few companies that bothered to respond to my resume and cover letter always had the same answers for me: "We love your work. You have a very impressive portfolio. But we don't have the financial means to hire anyone right now."

In the meantime, I got my driver's license and (after five months of searching) got a job at a retail store. I only worked there for two months. One day, I just didn't show up for work. Besides, my mother was moving to another town. And seeing that I had no funds, I realized I would have to move with her.

So, two hours after everything was unloaded from the truck into the new apartment, I left.

I had called my sister (from whom I had been estranged for a year), and she called my father (who I hadn't seen for a year), and shortly they found me sitting outside of the apartment complex with a small trunk of my belongings. I didn't care about what I left behind in the apartment.

It was surprising to see them pull into the complex. I hadn't seen my father and my sister together for years.

"Oh Katie," they told me as I climbed into the backseat. "You look like hell...."

My mind was slowly replaying the argument my mother and I had less than an hour ago. I had expected her to beg me not to leave, to apologize, to ask me to stay. But she sat there silently, tears rolling down her face. "If you think that's what you need to do," she said.

I exploded. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Mom! I don't know why the hell I am here, or where the fuck I'm going, or what the hell I'm doing!" I hurled open the door and hauled my bag into the hallway.

"I don't even know why I'm still alive!" I told her.

And those were the last words I told her.