My task right now is overcoming fear. I feel stuck in this dark place between fear and missing out on life.
I have my new home. My wonderful Airstream, Bridget. I have my tow vehicle (still unnamed). My trusty sidekick Murphy will go where I go and keep me company. But I have some crushing fears about starting over and going out on my own.
Yes, I realize it’s been almost five months since Rob passed away. I know that’s not a long time in the grand scheme of things but I have to get out of this rut.
This morning a friend posted this on Facebook.
Why can’t I just move forward and live my life? What am I waiting for? Is fear stopping me? Why am I stuck in fear and not living my life?
Having lost Rob so young reminds me not to waste a minute. I feel like I’m wasting minutes… days… weeks.
To be fair, there has been a lot going on and I have legal, medical, and other matters going on that can’t be ignored. That doesn’t mean I can’t go on short trips here and there.
The truth is, I’m scared. I’m afraid to pull my new little trailer. I’m terrified of damaging it or totaling it or hurting someone. This broken wrist has also amped up my fear level. This has been just awful and I have needed a ton of help from family and friends. I feel like I’ve gone from ultra-independent to dependent with one ugly slip and fall.
I’m also afraid I’ll be bored or lonely. In truth, I feel like I had been traveling alone for a long time because Rob was completely unable to help in any way and he slept a lot. I did it all and that’s OK because I wanted him to enjoy the rest of his life. I wanted US to enjoy the rest of his life.
I reason with myself. I remind myself I drove the giant dually truck while pulling the 38′ 5th wheel thousands of miles. I drove the 38′ motorhome while pulling the car more than 18,000 miles. I backed them into campsites, hooked up and unhooked by myself.
My reasonable self says just hook up and get moving and the fear will melt away with the miles. My fear is like trying to squish a spider. It keeps getting away and I can’t seem to catch it.
The 2018 International Airstream Rally is being held in Salem, Oregon this year in June. I was born in Salem and It’s just a few hours away. I think I’ll go. I may not take Bridget because it’s late to get registered and space is hard to come by. But I’m going to check into my options today and see what’s available. I’m hoping it will help me break the ice and get moving forward.
Three Years Later
I’m updating this post partially for me and partially for those who read it in the future. I’m OK. It’s still hard but I’m OK. I’ve towed my trailer over 35,000 miles since I wrote this post originally. I’ve boondocked in some very remote locations and loved it. I went from Washington state to Maine, then on to the Florida Keys, and back home again. I’ve spent months at a time on the road, just me and Murphy. I’ve had sad days and happy ones, I’ve dented my trailer, had my truck break down in the middle of nowhere, and made it out the other side. I’ve even dated a little here and there.
So yeah, I’d say I overcame most of those fears.
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