Transition Anxiety: It's a real thing
It's not something that I find helpful to complain about, mind you. Rather, it's just...surreal. Am I ready? Am I really doing this? Now what do I do?
I have unlimited options. I have a blank canvas. I have zero attachments. So now what?
My heart is a little heavy, if I'm being honest. There are things I will say "goodbye" to that I love--like the people whom I work with, for example. Like people in my life who, while I may not see them every day, I take comfort in knowing they're out there, somewhere, close enough to see in a moment's notice. There are parts about my identity that I will have to let go of as well. There are things I like about myself that are exercised or put to use through my job, and surrendering this part of my life is like giving pieces of myself away. I think if you know me, you regard me as a person who is strong, capable and confident. I'd like to think of myself that way, too. But right now? I feel pretty vulnerable. I feel like I just want someone to hug me and tell me "everything is going to be okay" even though I'm not sure where life is taking me at the moment. Sometimes we just need to lean on others to gain back our inner fortitude.
I imagine this transition anxiety is normal for those who are jumping off of the proverbial "cliff," who are taking that leap of faith into the unknown. We don't really talk too much about our fears and anxieties for worry that we appear weak or that we don't have it all together. I feel like, on the outside, I usually appear to have things together. Usually. I'm not perfect, that's for sure. Even so, I know I have an outside appearance of one who is pretty confident, fearless and at least prepared to go on an adventure. Ya know? I am. But...sometimes it gets tiring being so strong. Sometimes even the strong ones want to curl up in a ball on the couch and cry while someone holds our sobbing form in a puddle of tears and snot. It's pretty normal to get to a place where you just want to release everything and have someone else tell you things will be fine. That I have nothing to worry about. That this strange place of in-betweenness is to be short-lived and will be a faded memory someday.
There's an aspect of openness that I've had to get more comfortable with lately, and that is to step-out and ask for help. I've had to ask for help in planning my upcoming travels, as well as ask for extended deadlines for things, etc. so I have more time to get my affairs in order. I feel like I have an end date in sight, an expiration of the "old" Jess, and I'm not sure what to expect yet out of this "new" Jess. Who will this person be? What will she know? What will she see? What will she believe in? Think about yourself a year ago today and ask those questions. Are you the same person you were a year ago? Most likely, no. What do you know about yourself that you didn't know, then? You're probably stronger, more resilient. Perhaps you now see something that helps you understand your past with more clarity than before. Maybe you have seen or been through things that allow you to have more compassion for yourself and others. It's possible that you've changed. A lot.
If I do allow myself a moment to look back over the last year, I can definitely say that much has changed for me. Internally, at least. I am more aware of not needing to seek validation from others, particularly from relationships. I no longer feel the need to rush into things or have these clear-cut expectations about how things are supposed to unfold. I have so much more forgiveness and love in my heart than I ever thought possible. I've reconnected with old friends and allowed myself the ability to appreciate these connections, as they are truly a gift from the divine. I know now what I want out of a relationship. I understand my self worth. I have forced myself to let go of fears regarding rejection and, while it's been an arduous journey to learn this lesson, it's been most rewarding.
I want to feel as though the innate gifts that I possess are being used in the best way possible. I know that I have certain gifts, strengths, passions and interests that point me in a particular direction--for example, looking into the grief counseling field. True, I applied and was accepted to a Masters program, but I still felt like things weren't quite right. I began to wonder if I had to go back to school to get yet another masters degree to help people who were grieving. The answer? No. You don't have to do anything. It's part of social programming to feel like there are only a few options to get you where you want to go. The truth is, options are limitless if we allow ourselves to imagine the potential of the outcome, not the limitations of the perceived outcome. I guess this is my fancy way of saying that I'm on the right path that is leading towards my dreams, but I have no idea how I'm going to get there, exactly.
The other evening, I told my friend that I was freaking out because "Dude, I have no freaking clue what I'm going to do [for my next job]." All he said was, "Do you have faith in yourself?" My answer? Yes. Yes I do. "Well then," he said, "that's all you need right there."
Transition anxiety is a real thing. And it can affect even the strongest most resilient adventurist out there. I mean, I bet Bear Grylls gets nervous before having to "survive" on fetid baby snake corpses, but I don't think his producers would like it if he actually admitted to having butterflies in his stomach about it. Well...he'd admit to butterflies in his stomach because he eats a lot of messed up shit. But that's besides the point.
I guess the lesson, here, is that life doesn't have a clear, straight trajectory. I mean, we know this cognitively, but to live the windy, twisty, bumpy, muddy, turny path is another thing all together. It's the thing we often try to avoid because it's hard. It's confusing. It's stressful. It's work. It's risky. It's foolish in peoples' opinions. And we don't want to appear foolish, do we? Honestly, I don't really have the luxury of caring anymore what others think about my actions. Even though I'm nervous as all hell; I do think I have lost half of my mind on some days; and I am fully aware that others think I'm nuts, I have one thing that keeps me grounded. And it's faith. Faith in myself. Faith in my abilities. Faith in the universe. Just plain, simple, uncomplicated faith. Sometimes that's all you need.
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