I swear to god, sometimes I feel like a plaguebearer, shed from society. Maybe I have some sort of undiagnosed social anxiety disorder. I don’t know. But there are many times I feel like an outcast. I think that is probably normal for being out here essentially by myself flapping in the breeze, not knowing anybody, but it’s insane, there is a whole world of stuff that is going on around me, every day something else, but I have no idea what or where til it’s over, and it blows.
In the month or so before I left for here, I felt like someone dying of a terminal illness. I went to a bunch of places for the last time, people said goodbye, I was constantly asked questions like, ‘how much time you got left?’ plans were made for life without me.
Now I am here, and I know that this is where I must be, this is where I was meant to be. I will not fail, and I will not retreat. The life I want is not one for the weak, and a weak person will not be able to climb that mountain, I will.
In the meantime life goes on. I know that in the end everything will be worth it, and I have ALOT of adjusting to do in many ways. But god damn it, it is hard to get started.