First week of the New Year. So much looms ahead of me: this year, I'm moving to a much bigger city, attending a much bigger school, driving in much more frightening traffic, making choices that will affect the rest of my life. Family members and holidays and birthdays will be missed. Relationships strained. Self-doubt eminent. Resolves will be tested and anxieties will run amok. It's exciting and frightening simultaneously, all this inevitable difference. So much is at stake, too.
I'm fine about it, mostly. Except at night when I find myself fading into sleep and suddenly my mind's eye is freight-trained by all the questions and realizations, all balled up because I can't face them individually, when I'm fully awake. Can I afford to live on my own? Have I grown complacent here in my parents' house in this little tiny town? Do I have what it takes? This last w/r/t writing, school, driving, socializing, determining a career, making a living, supporting my future hypothetical family, "Making It." Et al. All this comes at me, just as my body sleep-limps and my breathing becomes deeper. This anvil of anxiety. Then I get up. Shake it off. Read for half an hour. Then I'm okay. I know my family loves me, and so does Brittany. I know nothing can ever come between Brittany and me. I know this will give me strength. And then I sleep.