wishing.

Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it. How often have we heard that? It's true. I hate writing this, because it sounds ungrateful, but I'm not sure I want what I wished for. I don't know if it's anxiety or fear talking - and it very well may be - but I don't know if I should go to Columbia. In all honesty, I applied thinking I'd never get in. Stupidly, again, I thought I'd get into UNC. My GRE scores were higher than last year's admitted students' scores, my writing sample (Master's thesis they wanted) got Honors, my rec letters kicked ass.....in short, I thought I would get to stay here in Chapel Hill. I wouldn't be faced with this. And I sent in my first deposit last week to Columbia, of my hard-earned money, and all I felt was dread. Fucking dread. Not even excited-dread, but full-on, from my toes DREAD. The main reason I sent the money in is because I didn't want to regret it later. Is that a good reason? I don't want to live in Manhattan again. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. I cannot even think of driving up North for good. I honestly can't even visualize it. Part of me thinks I would make it halfway, and end up driving back here. Or cry the whole 8 hours.

I struggle here. I work my ass off and live paycheck-to-paycheck, bill-to-bill. Did I think I'd be like this at 30? Not a chance in hell. But I love living here in Chapel Hill. It's the place I've lived the longest since college, and I have made a home here. It is familiar. I am healthy here. My soul is able to rest here. I have come home to myself here in a way that I'm not sure I'd be able to do in NY. Up North, there's always, always some sort of competition, or standards to live up to, especially in Manhattan. Here, it's relaxed. It's not about the latest bag, or clothes, or whatever. People are nice here. I have my tri club and am finally opening myself up to others and getting to know my teammates. I joined a running group, even though I'm only walking for now, because of my stress fracture. When I think about NY, I am not even happy. I should be. It's an Ivy League MFA. It's one of the top 20 in nonfiction writing. Alumni of the school include Kiran Desai, Dinaw Mengestu, Lionel Shriver, Alexandra Styron (William Styron's daughter), the Freakonomics author guy, and more. I will have opportunities to intern at magazines and papers and in writing programs at MSKCC.....but I cannot get excited about it. Is this just super-anxiety? Or is this my gut? I'm trying to tease this out.

The money I sent to Columbia could have gone toward my personal trainer exam. Part of me wants to forget about the rest of the deposit, get my certification, be a trainer and write. I don't even know anymore what the best thing would be for me. The thought of adding on 150k plus worth of loans makes me physically fucking sick. Would I get a book deal or make connections? Maybe, maybe not. There's no guarantee.

I don't know. I don't know anymore. How sad. I always thought I had my life planned out, a trajectory for success. And now I don't know anything and feel like I'm not quite going anywhere.