It’s been just over a year since I took the biggest chance of my life, one year since I packed everything I could into an old rusted minivan and moved 2 hours from the only place I ever called home. That day, my biggest fear was that I would break down and be left stranded on the highway halfway between where I was and where I was going. But somehow I made it to Cedar Rapids, and my new life was off and running.
The immediate fear of just getting where I was going was a daily concern for the first month, with me literally praying some mornings that the old van would just get me to work and back. But I was soon able to upgrade my wheels to something much more reliable, which brought on the fear of making the payments. No biggie, I’ll just swap the huge fear for a comparatively tiny one.
Once I got my driving situation shored up, it was time to find a place to live. At times in my life I was afraid that I would never live on my own, destined to spend my days with only the bare minimum of privacy. Once I started the apartment search, that fear became a multitude of them. Can I afford any of these? Will any of them accept me? Can I really live on my own?
As I was wrestling with all of those fears, I was still dealing with the fears that came with such a drastic career change. Can I do this? Do I want to do this? Will I ever be seen as anything more than just the big guy who can lift the heavy things? Then I got promoted to the kind of job I thought I wanted, but it came with a move to the night shift. Can I work nights again? Can I keep up with the job? Is today the day I get that tap on the shoulder telling me to go back to lifting the heavy things?
As scary as all thos fears are, they pale in comparison to the one I have dealt with since day one: the fear of being alone. I readily admit that I sucked at maintaining friendships and relationships with people I’ve known my whole life, and now I’m being asked to find new friends in a completely different city. One year after my move, I still only have one person I consider my friend, and she’s the reason I was able to do this in the first place. I can’t afford to live without her, but I’m scared that if I don’t do something, I’ll chase her away.
I know how to live without a good job, or my own place, or even a good car. I don’t know how to live without someone else who truly cares. That’s the real fear I’m fighting.
An Old Bird in the World 