It’s been a bit since I’ve written. Written here or in my personal journal. I think I just keep pushing through all of my feelings instead of facing them. So here I am, talking to you as I try to be heard and as I try to understand and accept my own feelings. Let’s see where this takes us.

To sum it all up, I’ve realized I’m scared. Scared of so incredibly much. I start my summer class next week. And while there is excitement in learning this new skill, there is also so much fear surrounding it. Afraid of failing. Afraid of not liking it. Afraid that I won’t actually have time for it or will want to dedicate my free time for it. There is just so much unknown and it all feels a little overwhelming.

I also have a work training most of next week. There is just so much learning and absorbing of information that I’m second guessing my capacity and ability to take it all in and succeed at it. Do I want to do all of this work? Can I do all this work? Am I good at any of this work?

I’m worried about balancing the height of my work season with classes. I’m worried that I won’t be able to show up at work in the capacity I want to because my time will be split. And come the fall, it will also be a year since the height of my depression and all I can think about is how I don’t want to go through that again. Not just because it made me miserable every single day, but also because I know how it affected everyone around me. I’m afraid that I’m making a mistake taking these classes and that I’ll regret it and just make my mental health that much worse.

Add in the layers of my overthinking that I’m also afraid of letting everyone around me down. I’m working on my people pleasing. I’m working on focusing on how I feel and what I think rather than basing everything off of everyone around me. There is so much I’m trying to do and none it feels like it’s working. I feel like I’m failing and that it should feel worse to feel like I’m failing myself, but it doesn’t. It feels worse that everyone around me might think I’m this horrible person. (yes I’m aware I completely escalated the situation there, welcome to my brain).

I can’t get the voices out of my head. I can’t talk them down. I can’t reach out. I see what I’m doing and I can’t stop it. Rather, I’m too tired to fight any of it. So much so, I’ve completely indulged in comfort eating. I’m aware it is all happening. I’m aware of what I’m doing. And yet I don’t stop it.

Please don’t panic, I promise I’m ok. It’s just so loud in my mind, I thought maybe it might help to share it with the world in case someone else might feel this way, too. If you do, know you aren’t alone. We will get through this, whether I believe it in this moment or not.

Just as I was about to write this post, I realized that I never wrote a year anniversary of blogging post like I had wanted to. One year passed just last month. And then I realized that it is actually quite fitting that I would write about fear a year later.

When I started this blog, I wrote about how scared I was to put my voice out in the world. How I was afraid of being judged. How I wasn’t sure if I had anything of value to share. And yet here we are. About 35 posts and many poems later sharing about things I never thought I was capable of sharing. And maybe even just slightly oversharing a little at this point.

Not everything is about looking back or looking ahead. Sometimes it’s just about being here in the moment. Accepting your feelings and emotions as they are. And telling the bad thoughts to go fuck themselves.

But in this case, looking back was helpful. Look how far I’ve come. Look what I’ve done. Look where I am today. It’s pretty incredible right? (that was more for me than you). Does it also terrify me what’s ahead? Absolutely. I’m terrified I’ll repeat the same mistakes, that I’ll go backwards, that I won’t live up to all the things I want to accomplish, and so much more.

But a mantra I’ve been repeating to myself lately is the it is my life to mess up. If I make a mistake then it was my mistake and no one else’s. I don’t need to worry about letting anyone else down because this is my life and I’m allowed to live it the way I see fit. I don’t need permission. I don’t need to figure out the perfect way to live it. And with all of that, comes a lot of grace for myself.

I am not perfect. Actually I’m kind of a mess most of the time. I’m still learning so many things. And yet I am not the sum of my mistakes. I do not equate to all of the messes I’ve made. I’m allowed to learn and change and grow. Actually life kind of requires it.

So who is the person I want to be? Someone stuck in their negative thoughts as she self sabatages and repeats every conversation or mistake she made over and over again? Or someone who recognizes that messes are made every day and that’s ok. Life still goes on. She is still loved and capable of love. She is still worthy of being everything she is and wants to be. Mess and all.

I was prepared to end this post on a negative note. I was prepared to sit here and just spew and sit in all of my negative thoughts and leave it without much hope.

But maybe that’s the funny thing about hope. It lingers in every moment whether we want it to or not. It’s just waiting for us to notice, ask for it, and accept it.

My fear isn’t gone, writing this isn’t a cure all. But I think maybe I’m starting to quiet the voices. Maybe I’m starting to believe in things again. Maybe even myself.

One moment at a time.