I am, however, still worried about other aspects of my life as I transition into college. Will I manage to get over my social anxiety enough to introduce myself to others, or will I tuck my tail and avoid my peers and professors like the plague? Will I be able to keep my anxiety at bay, or will it rear its ugly head again and fuck up my grades? Where will I even be going to college to start? Will I go to Arapahoe Community College in Littleton, or will I end up going to the little Tacoma Community College campus in Gig Harbor, Washington? On and on...

Regardless of where I may end up, I'm again confident that everything will turn out alright. I have faith everything will be okay. 

While I wait for my time to settle down, I've taken advantage of my out-and-aboutness as much as possible. I spent the fall and winter of 2020 living in Washington state. Despite it being so cold, dark, and grey most days, I ventured outside as much as possible, getting lost in awe on the shores of the Puget Sound. Since coming back to Christ, my childlike love for nature and the outdoors has come back to me like never before. To be fair, I never really lost this love and reverence for the out-of-doors. But, for the darkest years of my life, I had very little energy or time to get out there. Immersing myself in nature documentaries and listening to songs about being in the woods only made me sad, as I knew I couldn't go hunting, fishing, or exploring like everyone else. But, now I can. 

However, just because I can, doesn't mean I'm comfortable enough to embark on the wildest adventures imaginable. Even though I logically know that I am no longer so susceptible to most water-borne bacterial or viral infections, and I can survive without electricity so long as I have enough medication to last however long I'll be off-the-grid, I am emotionally still a scrawny, weak, terrified little creature. If I'm ever gonna accomplish my dream of successfully hunting a giant Alaskan Grizzly Bear, I'm gonna need slow, gentle guidance and encouragement from friends and family who are well-versed with the outdoors and are willing to push me well beyond my limits, even if I start freaking out. But, I'll never ever stay in a spider-infested camper again, no matter what. Sorry, Dad.

Still, I do manage to push myself a little beyond my limits. I'm just starting to get used to being in water deeper than knee-deep, after years of fearing it due to the nasty infections I always got from swimming. But, it took a lot of courage. Almost too much for me to muster at first. In fact, the first few times I tried to venture into the Puget Sound with my jeans rolled up or my waders on, I chickened out. Hell, for the first couple months I lived in Gig Harbor, I was too apprehensive to venture onto the public docks where there were no railings protecting me from falling into the frigid ocean waters. And, even just the smells of wet earth and old wood was enough to send me running in for dry land and cleaner air.