everything beautiful and terrifying.

I read an article today called “10 things that will happen when you start pursuing your dreams”. The aforementioned 10 things are:

1. You are going to be scared sh*tless, more than once.
2. There are times you’re going to be uncertain.
3. You’re going to get way out of your comfort zone.
4. Doubt will inevitably creep in.
5. You’re going to piss some people off.
6. You’re going to learn what you’re made of.
7. You will get comfortable asking others for help.
8. There will come a day when you’ll want to stop taking risks and settle for something with more security.
9. You will feel vulnerable.
10. There will be a day when you’re as happy as a kid who just discovered their first jump house, all smiles and laughter.

I’ve only begun taking steps to chasing my dreams and I’m there already. In the throes of being scared shitless, feeling uncertain, out of my comfort zone, doubtful, and wanting security. I know I’m going to piss people off along the way when I give up everything they value and pursue something I value. To sum it up, I am terrified.

Some days the fear buries itself so deep in my body I can’t sleep. I lay awake watching hours of TV so I am distracted from the fact that my life is not where I want it to be. I am not what I wanted to be. So I stay up till 2 am until I doze off, wake up the next morning, go to work, and chip away at my soul by going through the rat race that has become my routine. Pushing the fear back with activity and a constant buzz of company. I can’t stand to be alone and it’s more than my natural ESFJ tendencies. I am terrified that in the silence my emotions will overwhelm me. I have forgotten what it means to grieve well. To cry out my hurts and pains to God and then let them go. I have forgotten to be disappointed but not depressed. Everything I feel is too huge, too monstrous for my body to contain. It is like a force is building inside me, an anger and helplessness that is trying to claw it’s way out, no match for the poor prison that is my thin skin.

All this because I am afraid. Other people are afraid and don’t have to deal with feeling like they want to crawl out of their skin. But I’m not most people. I have tried to control my life for decades. I can remember being an impulsive, passionate child. A bit of a force of nature. But as the product of my parents’ wild emotions and ever-changing circumstances I developed a desperate carefulness. The need to always be good, to do what was expected of me, because it meant that despite everything going wrong in my world, there was one thing that was solid, and consistent, and stable. I was a rock. Immovable. Only I wasn’t. If I was a rock, I was slowly being chipped at by the force of a waterfall. I was never meant to be this carefully controlled person.

The cracks and chips are starting to show. I have an itch under my skin to change my world, change my life. Do something impulsive and passionate and so very unlike me. To chase a dream and feel every beautifully terrifying emotion along the way. To survive being broken and put back together in pursuit of something more. To let go of everything I’m holding onto and reach for everything I have ever wanted. To feel fulfilled to my core because of all the out-of-control mess I had to wade through to get to a place of clean, pure, peace. The peace that is found in the midst of powerlessness. Peace that surpasses all understanding. And covers a multitude of fears.