Friday I wrote about starting over. I have just been given a chance at something very new: a new career in a field I’ve never worked in. I’m going to be a Communications Specialist for Local 721 in Los Angeles. I’m thrilled! I’m terrified! I’m relieved! I’m anxious!

I’m thrilled. I am so excited to be able to get my life back on a track that I expect for myself. Having a career doesn’t mean that my entertainment goals are any less strong or on the back burner. It means that I don’t have to suffer in poverty while I pursue comedy, even if poverty is a strong motivator behind why I felt successful at comedy. When there is nothing else, there is making people laugh. People laugh at tragedy. Not to say my life is tragic, but it isn’t ideal. I’m excited to be on my own again, making my own way, the way I know how. I’m excited to help people instead of being the one who is helped. I’m excited to have something new. I’m excited to wake up to work.

I’m terrified. I could fail. This isn’t like teaching where I had a few years of experience and lots of resources to help me. This is a brand new field and while I have some experience to guide me, I’ll be learning more initially than I’ll be able to contribute. Naturally, I want to be successful right away because I want those who hired me to be happy with their choice. I’m terrified that it won’t be what I hoped for, or that I didn’t understand what I was getting into. I’m terrified that I’ll hate it. I’m terrified that I’ll love it.

I’m relieved. I am so relieved to be able to stop asking my parents for handouts. I’m relieved to get on a regular schedule that my body, mind, and soul can become accustomed to. My worries about succeeding are a little less because I have the prospects of a new life and an opportunity to do it.

I’m anxious. There are so many what-ifs that my brain starts moving in directions it doesn’t need to, creating disaster scenarios that aren’t realistic, but make my heart flutter with worry and my gut turn. Failure has been a good friend of me in recent years and of course, I’m anxious that I’ll fail again.

These feelings are all normal and they don’t really mean anything except that I have a heart, I’m breathing and I’m alive. For a long time, I didn’t feel that way. When I look back at my life one year ago, everything was just so different and part of me is happy that it’s so different and part of me laments some of the things I left behind. There isn’t anything I can do now, and truth be told, I wouldn’t change my life as it is. I just have a hard time accepting this new part of my life because I got so used to my life being crappy and making jokes out of it. I don’t feel like I deserve this new job, or real happiness any time soon. I think I need to suffer a little more, even if that sounds foolish. I’m trying to enjoy these moments, as my friend Nicole suggested, because letting them pass by is a true waste. I just need to convince my heart that it’s right, I deserve it and I will succeed.