When I was in school, I was special. Not in the sense that we’re told “You’re so special” or that I’m more unique or different than any other student out there, but I was special to my loved ones. Because I didn’t live with them, going home was special, they loved when I would just show up.
I was the first one in my family to graduate college. To dream big.
When I was in school, I was doing something. I had goals and plans and methods of accomplishing them. I had a life that I was proud of, and a life that made me happy. And now all I’m doing in my life is looking towards the future.
And today, the future freaked me the fuck out.
Suddenly, things didn’t seem real. The internal questions were spilling over. The juxtaposition of good things happening in my life while I was sitting in an office I despise was a bad side effect of being a twenty something. And it created a perfect storm of self-doubt and questioning.
I found myself slipping into disbelief and self-protection so that I wouldn’t be disappointed when the plans fall though again; as I believed they inevitably would.
I do believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe that I was brought to this point in my life with purpose, even though I don’t know what that purpose is just yet. And even though it’s hard to believe, I am where I am supposed to be. At least that’s what I have to believe to keep me going, and to keep my sanity.