I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so exhausted in my entire life. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know it’s not strictly physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual exhaustion. It’s more like all of those things. I can’t seem to get on top of my life.
I don't know if you're a control freak like me, but I do know that trying to be in control is exhausting. Because it's actually impossible. Your outcome may or may not be good if you manipulate the situation to get what you want; but the outcome will be good if you choose to let God have control of the situation.
I already miss college. I’m not ready to graduate. But maybe I don’t have to feel ready. Maybe I don’t have to feel anything. Maybe I just have to do something. In fact, maybe we shouldn’t be so worried about feeling ready. Maybe we just need to do the next right thing.
Some soon-to-be-college-grads that I know already have plans for the future. They already have a job lined up, or they’ve already met Mr. Right, or they’ve already chosen to further their education. But I don’t have anything set for my life after April. And that scares me.
Friends, I know singleness isn't easy. It's nobody's fault that you're un-dated, un-engaged, and un-married. But patience isn't becoming easier. Instead, feelings of loneliness, disappointment, and curiosity, and fear are becoming easier. What's a girl to do?
I bet we would all say that we hope 2021 is better than 2020. But what if it’s not? What if 2021 is worse than 2020? My goal for this post is not to make you lose hope but to point you to a hope that we can’t lose.
I know how icky our emotions can seem at Christmastime. They bubble up and bubble over, and we panic. We don’t know what to do with these uncomfortable feelings, so we do anything and everything to not think about them. To brush them to the back of our minds. To forget they exist. And that seems to sort of work. At least temporarily. Until we are completely and utterly alone.
So many things have happened over the past five years. But one thing hasn’t changed in five years: I still want to be a writer. I still want to get a book deal. I still want to see my name on the front cover. I still want to be famous.
In approximately eight months, I’ll likely join the billions of people working 9-5 (ish) jobs. I’ll collapse on the couch when I get home from the office. I’ll solely look forward to Fridays. I’ll talk too much with my coworkers about the “amazing” lunch I packed. And I’ll completely forget about my dreams because I’ll be spending my days in a lonely cubicle and spending my nights recovering from the workday. That's why I'm so scared about graduating from college.