REFRACTORY
The most torturous part of being trapped in this place between two worlds is that, for as much as I feel terrified about the future, I honestly don’t know whether my fears are rational or not. I’ll admit that ninety-nine percent of the time, my fears are based on false pretences, but university is such a mystery that I really couldn’t tell you if I’m being objective about it or not. The only thing I can be sure of is that my brain is fighting itself. On one side, there’s the analytical and logical part of my brain saying that everything is going to be fine, it’s not that big of a change, and even if the worst case scenario plays out, I’m still going to be alive so there’s really nothing to worry about. Then there’s the anxious and irrational part of my brain screaming at the logical part that all of my fears are going to come true, that I’ll fail out of university, and that ultimately, independence will be the death of me. There aren’t actually two voices in my head, and I’m grateful for that, but a battle between two armies is the easiest way to describe how my thought process works. Right now, I think the irrational part of my brain is winning, if only for their secret weapon: adrenaline. I don’t want things to change because change is unpredictable. I know that change is imminent, but my brain has blocked it out. I can see a fuzzy image of myself at university, but my brain won’t let me see the full picture. I have never gone through a period of adjustment as significant as this, so I think a philosophy of “please let me stay where things are comfortable, curl up into a ball, and refuse to go” is natural. I don’t know what the future holds, and even though that’s horrifying, it’s also a bit exciting. My future is unwritten and that means I have the ability to create the future I want. No matter what my future entails, I know that change is good, even if you can’t see it right away.