If The Idea of “Ch-Ch-Changes” Makes You Ill, You’ll Relate to This

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I’m admittedly bad at change. It takes me a while to adjust and process things. In life, change happens frequently, and periodically there are moments when I find myself completely and utterly overwhelmed as a result. This happened the week before graduating college, for example, or the day before I moved to Charlotte. I’m not a “go with the flow!” type person, though I wish I could be. Big moments are a lot to handle, as I know they are for other change-hating people.

Lately, I’ve been sensing a lot of things shifting around me and it’s been building up my anxiety. I’m turning 27 this weekend, for example, which somehow feels substantial. I see my friends getting engaged and buying houses, and I’m the only single one left in my close group of girlfriends. Couple that with other changes in my life, and last night it reached its peak. I was totally overwhelmed.

I talked on the phone with someone who knows me better than most people for a while and that definitely helped, but then it was after midnight and sleep was necessary, so there I was again in a silent apartment. Just me, myself, I, and my desire to keep things exactly as they are.

I did the ole “poor me” cry for a while, which is always useful when you’re overwhelmed. Then I did what any sane person does and whispered “It’s all going to be fine” quietly aloud to myself for a solid few minutes. After that I did some good ole-fashioned journal writing, straight out of 8th grade. This allowed me to get all of my thoughts out and process stuff more effectively. After a few minutes of staring at the wall wondering if that spot was dirt or a bug, I realized I actually felt a lot better.

It was sort of a ground-breaking moment for me. I had gotten myself calmed down and reassured that the world was not collapsing around me. This is a big feat for me, since I’m usually the first to go to outside sources when I’m stressed. I need my mom to tell me it’s all going to be fine. I need my best friend to tell me I’m right and the thing that’s upsetting me is wrong. I need a boy I have a crush on to give me some sympathy. In that quiet apartment, with everyone else asleep around me, I didn’t need any of that.

Is this adulthood? Probably not, because I almost let my car insurance policy expire and I still suck at saving money. But maybe it’s something close to it. Okay, year 27. Let’s see what you’ve got.

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