night fever

If I'd written something two weeks ago, it would've been along the lines of how I've fully realized that "often, the fear of doing something is worse than actually doing it".  I'd have said how funny it is that I spent YEARS stressing about moving away. Doubting myself, feeling torn, postponing it, facing judgement, losing sleep, making excuses, feeling stuck but being scared of changing that, worrying about feeling lonely. Why funny? (I'd have said) Because, well, when I actually did it, it was a fucking breeze.


Although it still holds true, those thoughts have been replaced with ones of disappointment, in myself. I have this hazy idea of what I want my future to be like, but it's unclear how I get there from here. It should be a straight path, a simple continuation and progression of what I'm already doing. But somewhere along the line I set such low standards for myself, that the bridge between my present and idealistic future has become an impossibly large gap. It's kind of ironic, I guess..being disappointed with yourself for not believing in yourself. I don't know..was that even what it was- me not believing in myself? What makes a person accept "good enough" instead of holding out for something perfect? Why did I wait so long to make my happiness, in all aspects of my life,  a really serious priority? I've been so passive...

There's been progress though...my life has been so empty lately that I've had room to fill it up with things I actually care about, and that feels awesome. Even so, there's so much missing and I'll be damned if I know how to get it..