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I have always been like this.  When I have a massive thing happening to me, no matter what it is, I fret.  It eats away at me, I wrangle with it, I deny it, I put my head in the sand and wait for it to go away.  What I struggle with EVERY DAMN TIME is owning it.

Today, I woke up with a congested face and a loopy head.  I had spent a couple of days out with friends which really means that I was avoiding the things waiting for me at home – the packing, the tying up of loose ends, the school work, the things that mean I’m ending my time here and moving onward.  I was looking for escape from the anxiety, which is something easily done, I’ve learned.  I simply wasn’t willing to face these things that need to be accomplished, let alone the worries I have surrounding this trek to Portland.  I have worried myself sick – literally.

This afternoon, I took myself on a walk, and as the decongestant and coffee combined to give me a little clarity, it hit me.  I am nervous.  I’m not as strong as I tell others I am.  I am not afraid of what I’m about to do, but I am anxious.  For me, these are two separate and different emotions.

The walk, coffee, and medicine I  took for the stuffy sinuses has helped me see things better.  I am willing to accept I’m not as strong as I want others to believe I am.  I’m a man making a massive change in his life, and it’s perfectly normal and okay to be anxious.  Plus, naming the emotion, and calling it out for what it is means it doesn’t have as much control over me.  It now has a place at the table, so-to-speak.  I’m not denying this side of me any further.

I can’t wait to be there.  I can’t wait to get past all this moving and settling in stuff.  I know that Caleb and I are going to have an amazing experience together.

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