There's this loop we can get caught in: If I can get through/accomplish (A), then everything else from here on will be easy. Or easier. Or not as stressful. Yes, I’ve survived so many things that could have crushed my ribcage and shoved the fragments into my soul! And yes, good moments have come after! Does the difficulty get easier though?
            My accomplishment for this coming semester is that I haven't yet panicked about the high-level courses I'm taking. I can handle this (A), and I know I can improve. The subjects and books even excite me! Soon the loop changes, and your (A) becomes a (B). (B) If I can work through this semester, then everything else will be easy. (C) If I can add more obligations to the school this semester, then everything else will be easy. I've been invited to join a committee at school; as far as I can tell, I've already "confirmed" my membership by showing any interest. I am a careful decision maker, and I am panicking about this, even if I'm not panicking about my actual classes (yet).
            If I can survive (A), (B), (C), and an inevitable (D), then everything else will be easy.
            I’ve heard that everyone feels like this. That adults who have been adults—”real people”—for years still swim through honey towards some final ease that might be ahead. That we might need to be ahead to keep going.
            I’m scared. I didn't miss this feeling—it’s been a great summer—but it feels familiar. I know I could probably actually do these sort of things on a lifetime scale, but can I do them on a week-to-week scale? A day-to-day scale? Sometimes I find myself hiding out by the lockers at my lunch break for an introvert's repose. Would I always be able to find those small amounts of peace while doing A-D? A line from Dawes's song "Most People" resonates with this feeling to me. "And she thinks... most people don't know what it takes for me to get through the day... she doesn't know most people feel that same way." Every day of these things is hard, and sometimes I'm just not sure why we would still do them. For some ease in the future, or some challenge that will feel fulfilling instead of crushing? We have to put some faith in the future to keep going, and I have a tendency to thoroughly question what I'm told to have faith in.
            I wouldn't trade a day of my life in, but sometimes I wish I was thirty already. I feel like by thirty, I'd at least have chosen a path and walked it. Just by experiencing more things, we learn more about the map of ourselves. But it is so terrifying to walk through my own veins and be so blind in their darkness. I know some spaces. Empathy. Wonder. But to responsibly give myself directions into the dark—please don't let me blame myself for my fear.