Everything Falls Apart & Then I Get to Try to Put It Back Together

Remember the song from the '90s that I got this post title from? It's been stuck in my head for a few days now, & because I haven't actually heard it in ages, I thought perhaps it was on mental repeat for some reason, a sign that I was supposed to start writing about why. Unfortunately, the words aren't coming easily because, in a rare moment of writer's block, I can't even figure out what I want or need to say.

I want to have something beautiful to say, something funny to say, something worthwhile or optimistic or even just entertaining. But to be honest, I don't know what to say. None of my words are cohesive or related - just a lot of feelings that aren't translating right onto paper, which is an unnerving experience for me. I always have something to say.

Look, it comes down to this: Every day, I take a look at my life & recognize how lucky I am - and how awful I still feel. The last couple of months, I've just been spiraling into this scary bottomless pit of sadness. There's too much going on, so much that I don't know how to absorb it all or manage it correctly, & when I don't know how to handle things, I turn inward & panic a lot.

Panic. That word sums it up, I think: I'm just so scared.

I'm scared of my new job because it means I might fail. It means I have to step out of my newly identified comfort zone, out of the safety of the position I held for just over a year & instead into a role that was created with me in mind. It means I have a lot to prove, a lot to live up to, a lot to do, & even though I'm also crazy excited about it, holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of Nathan's new orders because they mean he won't leave every two months anymore, that he'll be home with me instead - all the time, like normal couples. It means we'll be entering into the "real" phase of our relationship, the one where we have to evaluate whether this is something we can & want to do for the rest of our lives, & thinking in such definite terms terrifies me because holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of moving to Red Bank because it means starting over, doing everything I've been doing for a year now but have to do it better this time, actually making an effort to meet new friends & have a viable social life instead of curling up on the couch with my cat & falling asleep early on Friday nights. It means learning the ropes of a new place, figuring out how to be comfortable again, & being uncomfortable in the meantime while I assemble all the pieces of my new life - & holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of less identifiable things, too, things like getting old, going broke, being unhealthy; nebulous ideas that haunt me & creep into my thoughts throughout any given day. I'm scared of never settling down, of never feeling fulfilled, of always hitting this same bump in the road whenever I'm faced with the necessary prospect of change. I'm scared of yet another transition into the unknown, just when I'd finally recovered from the last transition into the unknown.

To sum it all up: I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared. It's just that everything seems big & scary, & I'm not particularly adept at dealing with big, scary things. I keep looking around at my life, & I can see that it's great, but what if I mess it up? What if it stops being great? What if I can't figure out how to hold onto everything? What if I can't transition properly? What if everything is falling apart & I can't put it back together?