Ifs, maybes, buts and could-have-beens

I Don’t Know.

“Know what?”

Anything. I don’t know if me going to Australia is a good idea. I don’t know if my depression has gotten better or if I’ve just learned to actively ignore it. I don’t know if it even “gets better”, like they say. I don’t know if going through a rough time makes someone a better or a stronger person in the end. I’ve been in an accident that could’ve easily killed me, and even that didn’t really change me either way. I don’t know what my purpose in life is, or if anyone even has a purpose.

But I do know that I’m curious to find out.

I don’t have a big Life Plan™ or even a passion for anything really; I’m just floating through life doing something that I like for a while and then moving on to the next thing. That’s the main reason I don’t want to study something, because I lose interest in things very quickly and I don’t want to commit to something I’m not a 100% sure about. And I’m not a 100% sure about anything.

That’s why I travel; I don’t have to stay in one place for too long (if I don’t want to) and I can learn new things about myself that I never knew before. Being in another country is currently the only thing that makes me even somewhat happy and I want to pursue that feeling while I still can.

I don’t know if me going away for a full year is going to make me happy but I’m pretty sure it can’t make me any worse. I’m stuck in a rut; every time I’ve done something like gone to work in Ireland or spent 7 months traveling the world, I’ve always ended up back here doing the same things I’ve always done. I’ve sat in this very same room in front of this very same desk for ten years. Sometimes I’ve been gone for a few weeks, sometimes a few months but I’ve always ended up back here right in this very spot. I realized this today when a photo popped up on my Facebook feed; it was a picture of my friends and I, taken in this very room eight years ago. Every single one of those friends has found their calling, moved away to study or to raise a family and I’m still here.

I’m so scared of Wasting. I’m scared of wasting money, I’m scared of wasting time and wasting my life. I don’t know what I want to do, but theoretically I could do anything and I hear the world is my oyster, but at the same time nothing interests me enough to do it, and having so many choices overwhelms me, so I do nothing. Which is wasting my life. I sure wish life had some sort of background music like they have in the movies that could warn me if I’m making the wrong decision or not.

As I said I’m not a 100% sure about anything, including going to Australia. I have so many questions and unsure feelings about it, and I still might decide not to go. Although I did turn down two separate job offers for full time positions, so I guess that means deep down that I’ve decided to go?

But what if…

What if I fail everything? What if my depression flares up again? What if I don’t find a job or a place to live? What if I don’t make any friends? What if I’m not good enough, pretty enough, positive enough, funny enough? What if I feel like I don’t belong? What if I run out of money? What if I don’t have enough money to begin with? What if I don’t like it there? What if I can’t quit smoking before I leave? What if I can quit but start again when I’m there? What if this is a bad idea? What if this isn’t the right time to do this and it’s all a gigantic mess and I end up wasting a once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity to get the Visa I need for this? What if I don’t go?


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