Are Chances Risks Worth Taking?

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Sometimes I try colors that I know aren’t necessarily flattering with my skin tone- but that’s about how far I go with the risk taking behaviors. Just recently my coffee place changed their Chai recipe – when asked if I still wanted my tea with an overpowering sense of sadness I replied ” I’m sorry, but I can’t” and left with water.

I wasn’t always like this, of course. Whenever I’m feeling particularly melancholy I look back to college and think about how badass I was. In my early twenties I gave ‘no fucks.’ I lived in a friend’s basement in New York where I hardly knew anyone to go to an unpaid internship in the city. I got a tattoo. I smoked pot. I took cabs in Miami at night by myself. I went to school in an entirely different state. I was completely fearless. I have a tremendous amount of respect for my college self. That unrelenting certainty that I would find my way and be okay is something unbelievably rare. Among my small group of guy friends they would often referred to me as “ the baddest” cus well I was so badass. Was it age that changed me?

After I graduated and the whole ex boyfriend being a sociopath in jail thingy ended instead of staying in Florida where I had made my life I cowardly and with a great sense of defeat retreated back home to the city where I swore to myself I’d never move back to. But here I am at home going to my 9-5 job being the girl I promised myself I would never be.

My new job even offered me a promotion in Jersey (just a state over from my dream life) – but I turned it down. I mean where would I live? How would I financially survive? What if I didn’t like it? I just wasn’t strong enough to do it again, so I politely said ” I’m sorry, but I can’t”

When I first moved back home I had such anxieties. How did I not know what was going on in my own apartment? How did I believe so many lies? Why was I so naive? Why did I trust so many people? Why was I so stupid? However, eventually like anything with time the anxiety diminished or so I thought. It was only recently that I actually stopped to think about- my anxiety didn’t magically fix itself it simply morphed into something far more sinister- I’m almost completely devoid of all emotion except for fear.

If it wasn’t for those God Damned Sarah McLachlan commercials I wouldn’t be able to convince myself that I’m actually human.

I’m so overwhelmed with this incredible sense of paralyzing fear of the unknown that I don’t pursue things I actually want. I mean Christ a promotion with my company to New Jersey, just one stepping stone from my dream city and I turned it down? Who the hell am I? New York is my dream, it always has been. What am I doing? It’s almost like everything I do I have to weigh out the risks and the consequences ad nauseam. I’m like an insurance lawyer- nope that risk isn’t worth it. Yeah, I’m gonna need you to cut down that tree by your window it could possibly fall one day and could maybe cause damage that I don’t want to have to pay for down the road.

It would be so easy to blame a particular person wouldn’t it? It would be too easy to say all my problems are because of him. But I know that’s a cheap excuse. Yet I can’t help but think after all the things he’s done to me he is STILL fucking with me from behind  bars. I just don’t know how confident I am in saying I can take a chance. I don’t believe I have the wherewithal to be anything but exceedingly safe and emotionally closed off. Is it better to be safe and live no life at all or take a chance and be willing to fail?

I truly only have two options to either take a risk and allow myself to actually feel something real or play it safe and continue to say, “ I’m sorry but I can’t”.

……I’m so sorry, But I can’t.


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