When will I be unafraid?

I started wasting time reading blogs and decided to look through the archives at Cruel virgin. I was just interested in seeing the evolution of a blog so many it seems, when I blog-surf don't make it more than a post or two, maybe a few months at the most. But I also think the more successful (longer lasting) blogs also have something worth reading and therefore attract readers, which makes bloggers more likely to come back and write more.

But anyway....I wrote a comment in an old post and it got me thinking. I've had this thought before and I often plan, if I ever find the right postcard, to send this to Post Secret: "The things I want to do most in life, are the things I am most afraid of doing." (So if you ever see that one!)

I don't want to be working this job. I don't like all the people I work with (maybe I've been lucky, but I've never had it happen where more than 1 person at my work -that I have contact with- I can't stand so much), I am disliking the actual work, the work environment, the drive to and from, I don't actually get to do the work which drove me to this profession to begin with. It is so closely linked to academia that I see I myself doing research and grant work for the rest of the foreseeable future if I stay here, and having my worth dependent upon the success of those. What I would love to do is work with books. I was an English major, I love reading, I love writing, I love ripping apart manuscripts and making comments about how to make them better. So why the hell haven't I gone into the book industry? Why did I think that education and intellectualism, academia and the sharing of information would suite me that much better? I hate sales. I don't want to sell people anything. In my naive view of academics I really thought that I wouldn't have to. But what is the difference between sales and politicking really? I have to sell myself, prove my worth, sell my projects, my programs, my grant proposal to my coworkers, my boss, my dean. And I don't get to read, I don't get to discuss literature, theory, books. The only things I've been editing lately have been my cover letters (if only I could do that properly).

I want to move. I want to live on my own. I want to ballroom dance. I want to learn a martial art. I want to get really good at ballet. I want to speak Spanish. I want to be a better person than I am.

Where the fear comes in is that what if I fail? What if I'm really no good at it? What if I end up not liking it as much I think? What if it's too hard for me to grasp? What if this is the best possible me that I'll ever be?

I had a Psych 100 class once describe procrastination as a symptom of a fear of failure. You put something off until the last minute because deep down (unknowingly probably) you are afraid that you'll do it badly. Then if it does go badly, like you get a bad grade on a paper, you can blame the procrastination. "If I had started earlier I would have gotten an A." And if it goes well..."I thrive on the last minute pressure." It becomes a vicious cycle. I don't know if this is true for everyone who procrastinates, but I think that it might actually be the case for me.

I might also have a touch of ADD. I can't work in my cube when other people are around it distracts me too much, I walk around while I write or do work at home, I flip channels instead of watching any one thing on TV, unless I'm in a movie theater I can't watch a whole movie with out stopping, I prefer to tape the shows I watch so that I don't have to sit through the whole hour, or if I do watch it I get up or flip at each commercial, not even video game can hold my attention for too long before I'm itching to be up and moving (it could also be that I'm over-caffeinated and constantly on a sugar high). The most productive I have been at work are when I come in at 7:30 and I'm the only one in the office, when I stay after 6 and I'm the only one in the office, the one time that I had to go up to the 3rd floor staff room and all I had competing for my attention was the refrigerator humm.

I had a big grant proposal that I needed to have done on Monday morning so it could be sent to the approval office and mailed before the due date. I turned down two dates (one with a best girl friend and one with L) in order to stay home and work on it. I also had materials to create before a Tuesday morning meeting. Well, needless to say nothing got done over the weekend and not a whole lot more on Monday. Tuesday morning I was rushing to finish the proposal (couldn't get my budget numbers to match up correctly) and get it off before the meeting which I hadn't prepared materials for (I ended up not needing them - lucky). Part of my frustration, and how it ties into fear of failure, is that this was the largest grant I've worked on and I was doing it on my own with no direction and little help. The parts that my boss was going to work on didn't materialize so on Tuesday I was writing those. I don't know why the dean wants us to apply for it since we don't really fall into the proper category of projects they're looking for. And, if we do get the funding there is a small chance that they'll use that money to offer me a full time position. What do I say if they offer it to me? Great thanks, let me just sell my soul and future happiness for medical benefits. But how much easier would it be to just say yes, take the pay check, continue doing what I'm doing, smile through my teeth and keep the irritation out of my voice, keep my head down and not speak up at meetings.

I had lunch with my X and a mutual friend. We bitched about our jobs. They work in a different department, with different people, but it's the same system. My X has been working here for almost 3 years now, our friend longer as far as I know. They've never gotten out how do I? They go home and play World of Warcraft for 5 hours or more. I go home and watch dancing with the stars in between rampant flipping of channels. I hope that I'm not living my future now, but I am still afraid of changing.

I want to know where my 21 year old self went. I hated my job then and as soon as I got a break I ran away. I went to Scotland to study abroad and I ended up staying for 2 years. I had the time of my life, I met wonderful friends, and a wonderful guy (who eventually ripped my heart out of my chest and left if bloody on the floor of Heathrow Airport, but it was worth it). I left alot of people that I cared about behind in the states to go, and I blatantly defied my parents and my grandfather when I stayed. I took out student loans, got a job, and managed to pay for everything, but I didn't have to find a place to live, make rent on time, pay for utilities. It was a university atmosphere which helped make the transition and I am afraid that if I just up and move to a new city with out having that type of campus life safety net that I am going to flounder alone and end up sad and miserable. But these are concerns that totally escaped me at the time. Fear didn't enter into my thinking until that first trip abroad and I started crying on the plane, but once I got there it evaporated. I wish that I could tap into that fearlessness again and just go for it. Fuck all of the money concerns and the what ifs. I just want the courage to do what I really want.