Thoughts on Caravan Residency

I worry.

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.

The Pinterest boards I’ve made are extensive, so if anyone has the web resources to pull this off, it’s me.

I can do this. I know it.

 

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