Wordy Wednesday: Uncertainty

I have this thing where I don't like uncertainty. I don't like the unknown (like most humans, I would imagine). I fight against it. Literally, I do everything in my power to know everything which, at the end of the day, just isn't a feasible task.

I've been working with my therapist to become more comfortable living in the gray areas and I like to think I've made a lot of progress. Still, there come times when the anxiety gnaws at me because I don't know what's going to happen to me. I don't trust myself and my ability to make decisions which is sort of silly since I've done a pretty good job so far.

I don't trust myself and I don't like change so the thought of my immediate world changing is stressful. More than stressful. It's can't-eat-lunch-I'm-going-to-be-sick stressful (still working with the therapist on that).

To counteract my fear, I try to hold on to the things I do know. I know this blog will continue to be. I know I love my animals and family and they love me. I know the sun will probably rise tomorrow. I know I will always love PSL.

I don't know where I'm going to be living this time next year. I don't know if I'll be at the same job. I don't know if I want those things to stay the same, but I also don't know if I want them to change. I'm a disaster, I know, but hey, I guess that's another thing I know.


BFF

I have tried very, very hard to not come back to this blog. I actively remind myself of why it would be best left like a time capsule, buried under Internet dirt and undisturbed for future generations. Has there ever been a time capsule that's set up and then dig back up by the person who put it there? I feel like, in the history of time capsules, this has happened. And in the history of Internet time capsules, I'm sure this has happened as well. And I guess it's going to happen again because goodness gracious, if I haven't been full of words these days.

The tricky thing about words is that there are only so many times they can be said verbally. Eventually, people get tired of hearing them, even if you're not done talking. I think that might be because the words want to be immortalized. They want a permanency that you just can't get from talking, no matter how many times you say the words.

I think it's been a little over a year since I've been to this space. I remember it because I wrote it but I also cringe at it. Hard. It will take heaping sets of blog posts to talk about what happened this past year. It'll take more vulnerability than I currently possess to actually put it out there.

It might be ironic but for someone who has started so many personal blogs, I actually don't really like being vulnerable. I hate putting myself out there. It's why I struggle so much with making friends these days. I need constant affirmation. "Yes, Ally, I want to be my friend." "Girl, you're so cool. Let's be besties." Anything other than that and I'm in this gray area where I don't know where I stand and every emotion and story I share takes so much courage, it leaves me drained.

For all the folks at home wondering why I'm not seeking professional help because holy moly, does that sound crazy, rest easy. I am. But writing is a part of that growing process. No matter how much I wish every friendship could be an instant thing where you're best friends who share everything, that's not a real thing. Except on the Internet. Or I guess more specifically, in a blog.

Y'all are, at the moment of this writing, not my best friends. But I guess you're about to be. Last chance to opt out. Scroll on over to that 'X' in the corner.

Now it's too late. Hey, bestie!