I worry about a lot of things a lot of the time; it’s one of the things about anxiety. But this is a deep, gut worry, that only comes when I’m uncertain about my future. I’d say it’s pretty close to fear, really. Fear of things changing.
Since my previous post, a lot of people have talked to me. I’ve talked to a lot of people. There was a lot of talking all around.
During those talks, tiny concerns were pushed into my brain, wiggling their way in like worms. Would I get someone to let me rent their land? Could I really use a composting toilet? What if I’m no good at renovating? Do I really want to give up this cushy life at home?
Those concerns congealed in my gut to become fear.
But here’s the thing. I’m a freakin’ adult. I may be the youngest of four, but I’m nearly 30 years old. I’ve done so many things in the past ten years that I didn’t think I’d have the guts to do, but I did them, and sometimes they failed, sometimes they worked out. It’s worth a shot, because if I do succeed, I’ll find myself in a good, secure position, with a roof over my head and a decent financial situation. If I fail, I’ll merely end up back where I am now. So what do I have to lose?
I’ve posted an ad on Gumtree to advertise my wish to rent some land for a caravan. I don’t know if anyone will even read it, but what the hey.
I can do this. I know it.