This is not a story. It’s my jumbled thoughts spilling out so…
My head’s in a weird place lately.
Closing a chapter, beginning another, changing my geographic location. I feel like I should be more excited about going, or sad about leaving, or something other than ambivalent.
I’m wondering if I need to reexamine my goals in general. Realistically, will I ever manage publication or accomplish the things I feel I should? Maybe I’m thinking beyond my ability? Should I really pursue my doctorate? Are these things I want for myself? I’m too self-aware, too thoughtful, which makes me question the moves I make.
This lack of real emotion bothers me. I’m just getting back into writing with any real excitement and already feel another block coming on. Damn, fickle creativity.
What if nothing turns out how I think it should? I’m taking a huge risk that I may fail to succeed at.
I realize I don’t try because I’m petrified of failing. And not feeling excited about something life changing makes me worry that I’m on my way to failing, like I’m not sure on some level.
I don’t feel rational. I just feel weird and totally out of sorts. I feel like a kid playing at being a grown up. My degrees mean little, my success means little, my travels mean little, my expertise, my knowledge, my wisdom…
Maybe the excitement will bloom soon.