Last night, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Fear. That skanky ho Fear.
Fear reared its ugly head and wouldn’t let go. I had a major, MAJOR freakout.
It all began as I was researching for our trip. What museums to go to, where to eat, what to do on my birthday…the normal things I think about everyday. Slowly, but surely, the doubts, fears and frustrations about everything just crept up on me.
“Will I have enough money for all of this?”
“What am I going to do when I get back?”
“What about my career?”
“Seriously Sheryll…what are you doing with your life?”
And then I just lost it. I cried. And cried. And cried. Until my body shook, my eyes burned and I tired myself out. Laying in bed with Johnny by my side, I cried myself to sleep.
Fear has a way of crippling even the most stable person. Until last night, I thought I had it all together.
I know traveling is my dream, my passion. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for the past 3 years. It’s the trip of a lifetime. But in the back of my mind it feels like I should be doing more. Doing…something.
I’ve been unemployed for 3 months now (not counting the month I worked at the diner). And coming from the overachiever Sagittarius in me, I feel like I should have accomplished something (work related) by now. Some semblance of a career path. This is the longest time I’ve ever been unemployed. And while it was wonderful for the first month, I’ve been itching to get my hands into something else. I’ll be 25 this year and I still haven’t the slightest clue as to what the hell I want to do with my life.
And maybe some part of me is afraid of all this because it’s completely new to me. My whole life has always been laid for me. I’ve always known what my next move will be. Bullet points. Steps 1, 2. and 3. And charting into this completely unknown territory is like jumping into a pitch black ocean without a life jacket. But I guess it’s up to me to sink or swim.
And I have to swim.
This much I know: I know I want to travel. I know I somehow want to be able to earn money and travel at the same time. But I can’t shake this feeling in the back of my mind that I need some sort of “backup plan”. Go back to school? Intern? Write? Teach? Is this my intuition? Or is it fear telling me that I can’t succeed?
Breaking free of my comfort zone. That’s what needs to happen. To push myself beyond the limits of what I “think” I am capable of. There have been plenty of missed opportunities just because I haven’t thought I was good enough. Or that this blog isn’t good enough. But now that I really think about it…It’s just that skanky ho Fear telling me these things. I’m afraid to succeed. Afraid to see what happens if I really put in my full potential. Why? I guess because in the end, following your dreams is scary shit. Especially when you have no idea what you’re doing.
I really need to learn to let go and go with the flow.