Every time I think about the year ahead of me, that's how I feel.
It's a Monday night and the countdown on my phone says 49 days. I've yet to start packing. It all seems so simple, all laid out in front of me with step by step instructions, yet I can't help but feel hopelessly unprepared.
August 24th, I will be leaving the place that I have called home for the past 14 years. All I've ever known since I was 6 is within these walls. I will be leaving it all behind for a year to do volunteer work in Little Rock, Arkansas.
Growing up, I always did well in school. Never flinched at a spelling test. Timed math quizzes were a piece of cake. Even when things became slightly more difficult in high school, I still managed to graduate in the top 15% of my class, earning myself a state scholarship that allowed me to go to my home county's community college free of tuition. After picking my major, Social Work, and spending endless hours looking at 4 year schools to eventually transfer to, I was ready and eager to begin my first semester. My naïve excitement was short lived as I encountered panic attacks and mental breakdowns more than new friends and social gatherings. My GPA suffered significantly and I found myself having to retake classes and ultimately losing my scholarship. With a third stressful semester under my belt, I decided enough was enough and that I would finish out the year, but going back in the Fall was not in my plan.
Instead, PC(USA)'s Young Adult Volunteer program seemed much more suited to the needs of my mental/emotional state. I get to take a year-long break from school, while still working in my field of interest. I will be able to refocus my energy and hopefully come home feeling refreshed and ready to dive back into my studies. Along the way, the aim is to make new connections, service others, build meaningful relationships, and step out of my comfort zone- something I've always had extreme difficulty doing.
As the application process began, I was elated. Nothing could stop me, I was ready to go. Now, however, as the reality of the situation sinks in, I can't help but begin to feel extremely anxious (silly comfort zone). I will be an 18 hour car ride away from home, living in a house full of strangers, in an area I am unfamiliar with. Sounds pretty scary to me. I won't be able to go to my friends' houses to watch movies and talk until 5 am. I won't be able to take spontaneous trips to the shore just to get pizza on the boardwalk. My life is going to change significantly and for someone who is as comfortable as I am, nothing could be more terrifying.
Nonetheless, I am hopeful. I'm hopeful that my roommates will be as silly and sociable as my friends here at home are. I'm hopeful that my busy work days will keep too distracted to miss home. I'm hopeful that the new connections I make will be able to comfort me on my worst days. I KNOW that this next year will change my life for the better.
So despite my anxieties, I can walk away from all this rambling feeling a little more like:
