I wrote someone a letter this morning and told them to be brave, but know that it is also okay to be afraid. Later I had several people ask me what I’m doing for spring break. I told them I was going to drive, somewhat randomly, around the southeast and see what there is to see. They each eyed me with a mixture of suspicion and envy and told me to be safe. No one told me to be brave but what they don’t know is I’m scared as hell.
I’ve grown increasingly afraid over the years to go anywhere and do anything, weighing the possible awful things that could happen with the relative safety of just hanging out at home. I had thought maybe it had (partly) to do with the decline of my vehicle and that the one bright side of getting a new one would be that wonderful feeling of freedom I used to have. It’s still gone and I’m not sure why, but I keep pushing myself to do the things that I theoretically want to do, trying to ignore that feeling of Impending Doom.
Eventually, luck will run out AND I DON’T KNOW WHY THAT THOUGHT COMES SO EASILY.
I’ve always been a prepared (and maybe a bit paranoid) traveler but this is something completely different, this Impending Doom feeling even if I’m going out to run errands. Like time is running through that Days of Our Lives hourglass. Is this what happens in your 40’s or is the anxiety that I’ve been able to control on my own for years starting to crawl all over me in a way I don’t know how to manage? I go on acting as if everything is fine and planning to do all I want to do but in
the back of my mind I’m dreading every decision that I make because it could be The Wrong Decision that makes everything fall apart.
Just so you know, my Grand Southeastern Tour begins Monday morning. Until then I’ll be wondering why the hell I think this is such a great idea when I seem to be dreading it so much. I’m sure it will be fine and all this worry is for nothing. Until the next time I want to leave the house.