I got stood up last night.
Looking very cute, good hair, good outfit, shaved legs, total waste. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I went out and bought a chocolate bar and some La Croix and came home and listened to Sufjan Stevens on repeat and dimmed the lights and just stopped for a minute. Which for me can be dangerous, and it was. Two minutes in I bolted up and said "What the fuck am I doing?" and it spiraled from there.
Tomorrow I move out of my apartment, taking with me only two suitcases for three months. When I come back in December, my lease is up. My 9 year SF stint is done as of basically now, one week after deciding it was done. I re-read the blog I posted yesterday on meditation and realized I hated it and became certain I'd lost my voice. To confirm I had lost my voice I looked at my Mail Chimp analytics - which had done a dive this past week - and nodded "yep." Proof.
I went to bed scared and alone and woke up terrified and alone, throat closed. Cold dread. I don't know what I'm doing, I am wholly untethered, I'm all alone doing it, I'm a terrible writer, I will never have a partner, it's all going to fall apart or maybe it already has. I can't do this. I ate more chocolate and I thought for a minute about how I might find a way to stay in bed all day in a ball.
This isn't my first rodeo. And what I know so well is that the second we make up our minds to make big scary changes, the moment we push the boundary of our comfort zone, that we freak the fuck out. Our body says "nuh-uh" and our mind says "no way" and we imagine every worst case scenario and build cases for staying safe, for not being enough, for not being ready. And we want to stay in bed and take it back and stepping forward feels far less appealing than tearing our skin off.
So today - even though I want to literally crawl under my bed - I'm going to finish my chocolate breakfast, pack my two suitcases, and remember that cold fear is just a really big wink from the universe letting me know that I'm doing something right. Especially if it's this bad.
Do it. Do it scared, do it messy, do it even when dying feels like the better option. Because I promise you when you are THAT fucking scared, it means it is going to be THAT fucking good.