Not the sleeping kind.
Do you ever want something so bad it scares you? Like, I do all this dreaming and planning and hoping and wishing, but what if I never get it? And what if I do get it, but it’s not all I’ve dreamed it to be? It makes me afraid to dream because I don’t want to be disappointed in the end.
That’s the funny thing about dreaming, I guess. It’s risky. You leave yourself open to a lot of pain. Sometimes its safer to dream small, achievable things. Things you can bring up over the dinner table and your family will nod at and say, “Yeah, you can do that.”
One of the things I hate the most is losing something. I hate the feeling that I’ve left something somewhere, like my phone or my shoes or whatever. And I think an emotion very similar to losing something is the feeling of disappointment.
I hate disappointment.
It’s that empty feeling in your stomach, that moment when you press your lips together, shake your head and say “Not what I expected.” It’s the feeling you get when someone lets you down, when a kid does something they shouldn’t.
I’m afraid of disappointment. It’s why I’ll make fun of a movie trailer before going to see the movie, to make sure my expectations are low. It’s why I never really anticipate or make any expectations for social events or holidays. It’s why I don’t make lists of things I want for my birthday or for Christmas, and though it frustrates my mother, it’s safer that way. I don’t want to be let down.
That fear is why I like rainy days, like today: they’re gray and cloudy with no expectations. No one is waiting for you to play outside or to go out for the evening. Rain cancels everything and forces you to have nothing planned for the day ahead.
It’s why I have trouble making friends. I expect too much of them. And after a few disappointing friendships, I learned better. I shut myself off. I still do that sometimes. I pull away when I get too hopeful or expect too much of them. I don’t want to get in a situation where I’ll be disappointed.
Above all, I’m scared of disappointing myself. That is my ultimate fear. I’m scared to dream big because I don’t want to let myself down. I don’t want to achieve anything less than my dream, and if I’m going to be disappointed, I don’t want to dream at all.
This reminds me of the scene in Tangled, right before Rapunzel sees the lanterns, the one thing she’s dreamed of doing all her life. (If you’ve never seen Tangled, this won’t make much sense, I’m sorry) (Here’s a link to what I’m talking about, stop around 1:30) Flynn says something like, “You okay?” and Rapunzel responds with “What if it’s not everything I dreamed it would be?”
That’s what I feel right now. I dream, I imagine, but in the end you have to wake up and face the harsh realities. What if I can’t do it? What if it never happens? What if it does, but it’s not everything I dreamed it to be?
That’s just something I’ll have to live with, I guess. The risk of things not turning out how I want them to, the risk of my dreams shattering. While writing this post, I kept meaning to write something about what my dream is instead of just talking about dreams in a vague sort of way.
But I just couldn’t. Even now, I’m stalling. To admit to one of my biggest dreams is also to leave myself open to my biggest fears. If I never acknowledge that it’s something that I want, I can’t ever be disappointed if I don’t get it.
In the scene from Tangled, if you watched it or remember what happened, when Rapunzel admits she’s scared her dream won’t be everything she’s dreamed it to be, Flynn responds with “It will be.”
I think that scene points out something else relatable about dreams. You can’t dream them by yourself. You have to share them and open up with other people. Some might be naysayers, I’ve experienced that, but others will look you in the eye and promise you your dream will be everything you’ve dreamed it will be. You can’t hide your dream or you’ll never find those people that will support you and get you there.
Okay, I guess if I follow my own advice I should tell you what my dream is. (Dang it, I’ve written myself into a corner)
I don’t want to.
I’ve talked about it before in other posts, casually, but today it hit me that what I really want to do…what I really want to achieve….
I want to be a published author.
(There, I said it.) It just hit me today that when I don’t write, I feel empty. And if I had to do any sort of other career that prevented me from writing every day I would go insane. And it hit me that that isn’t an easy goal. I realized just how much writer’s block I have, how I’m struggling to finish my novel. I realized that to be a published author you have to do a lot more than just write, you have to market your stuff, but how can I market something I haven’t written? There’s nothing else I want to be in life, nothing else I want to do. And I’m scared to death that I won’t be able to do it.
I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write I just wanna write
Sometimes writing doesn’t feel like a passion, more like a disease or a curse. I have to do it, there is no choice.
I meant for this blog post to be, like a paragraph.