Every day that I wake up, I move forward.

I am so utterly terrified.

It's about 4:30 in the morning and I have two loads of laundry going on at the same time. I'm so excited for my future, but that pit in my stomach, that gaping black hole that seems to suck all control from me and replace it with pure and utter fear-- that is really starting to feel more and more real every minute.

I'm so scared. I'm not quite sure how this will go on. Right now, I want to ask for help. I need help. But I don't know how to ask for it. I'm not even sure what kind of help I need. I don't want reassurance. It's like when friends are freaking out before a test. You smile and tell them you're confident in their abilities, but what does that really mean anyway?

But I'm sitting here, and I realize that I know this feeling. I felt it so often in high school. It was the uncertainty and feeling rock bottom, pitted, gutted out. I was just so lost and stuck.

Here I am, thinking I am alone and afraid, but really, I'm just anxiously awaiting TO feel something. I'm anticipating the excitement so much it's consuming me that I'm waiting to FEEL the excitement. I'm so happy that I know, and yet, don't know my future. It's the possibilities. To complete the cliche, I know, they really are so endless. I feel empowered, like I might have some semblance of control over my future happiness.

I am ready. I just haven't figured that out yet. Every day that I wake up, I move forward.