For the second night in a row I get into bed, lay down and get comfortable for a good nights rest and my mind starts racing....
"What am I making for dinner tomorrow night? Should I get up and take some meat out of the freezer to thaw. Will I even make it 'til dinner time tomorrow night? What if I don't wake up in the morning? What will my parents do with all of my bills? How will they ever pay off my loans? How will I ever pay off my loans? Will I find a good job that I enjoy doing, or am I doomed to live the rest of my life in retail, or worse? Is there anything worse than retail? I would never be able to live on those wages. Will I ever finish school? Do I even WANT to finish school? But I want to have SOME kind of degree. Will I be able to get a job I enjoy with my degree? Will I be able to find a job here in Minneapolis? Do I even want to stay in minneapolis? I don't want to be a townie, be born, raised, and live my whole life in one neighborhood, city, state. There is nothing wrong with that. But that isn't what I want. But will I ever have the balls to get out of this town without having all my ducks in a row and completely planned out? If i decide to stay in town for the next 2 years to finish this degree I don't know that I need, will I have the guts to move? 24 isn't old by any means but it does sound like the age that I am supposed to grow up, not the age to move across country and experience the world. I have friends getting married, and having babies, and I don't even know where I'll be living in 6 months."
If you just read all of that you can probably feel the immense weight that plops itself down on my chest in bed every night. I can't breathe, it feels like a 300 pound gorilla sat in my chest, and screaming a' la George of the Jungle in my ear. My heart starts racing, my head starts pounding, I'm gasping for air, I open my eyes and it all goes away... although, thinking about it now, I can feel the gorilla settling in.
Last night, after finally falling asleep I had a very interesting dream. In it, instead of going to the U of MN, and subsequently leaving a year and a half later, I tried my hand at a pseudo-Ivy League school and went to Stanford with Felicia (a girl I went to high school with, it's unimportant). My dream was basically our first day there. Walking around campus, buying books, finding our classes, making friends, etc. it was fun. But when I woke up, boy did I feel like a failure.
I'm having a lot of trouble figuring out what I want, what I need, and what I'm capable of. My brother-in-law says that I don't give myself enough credit. He says I take after my sister (his wife) in that sense. Apparently neither of us think we can achieve very much. But I don't that that is my problem. I KNOW I'm not capable of all the things I want to. And, no, I'm not throwing a pity party. I'm ranting and venting. BIG difference.
I'm irritating myself.
I just feel like I have so many things in my head, in my heart, that I want to do, try, and accomplish that there isn't enough time, money, intelligence, or ambition to do them all.
I need sleep. Maybe the gorilla won't bother me now.... doubt it.