What I know for certain.

I have come to find that in life, certain things are... well... certain.

I know that when I put two splenda and a splash of skim milk in my french vanilla dunkin donuts coffee and take a sip, that I am going to officially be awake to the world (probably best to avoid me before this moment happens). When I watch the Ellen show, I will laugh. When I read an Emily Giffen book or see an incredible movie trailer, I will feel inspired. If there is a song on the radio, whether I like it or not, chances are I am going to sing it. Feeling a child's tiny arms around my neck brings me peace. Staring into the ocean will undoubtedly make me feel insignificant in the most beautiful way. If I don't wear sunscreen, I will burn like a tomato. If there is chocolate, pizza, or cheese in any form in front of me, it will be eaten.

I love these simple certainties in life - the things I can count on no matter what - because they usually create a sense of calm for me, no matter what is thrown my way.

When the 9/11 tragedy happened, I was sucked into the storm of panic and unease with the rest of the world, but to a completely different degree because I was just a kid who didn't quite grasp the gravity of the situation with true rationale. I thought the whole world was going to explode and come to an end. And my mom, knowing I was completely freaked out, brought me up to her bedroom when I couldn't finish my dinner, tucked me into her queen size bed (which felt huge at the time) and turned on The Brady Bunch. And in that moment, I felt certain that everything was going to be okay.

When life takes you by complete surprise, like it did that day, certainty creates the groundwork for moving forward. It is the little things that create familiarity and build who we are. I think we all know this. But what I have come to find recently is that moving to a new city and creating a new life has stripped some of my confidence, leaving me to question how can I really be certain of anything.

I start my new job on Tuesday and while I am excited, I am also freaking out a little. What if I don't love the work? What if I become one of those adults in a few years who tells the new graduate that the real world actually sucks and the cocoon that was college is the best life is every going to be? I think that having responsibility and earning a paycheck is going to be great, but I really have no idea how it is all going to pan out.

And these days I am often blindsided by my own emotional reaction to a lot of things. One minute I will be perfectly content, the next overwhelmed. With one person I am delightful and happy, with another I am irritable and impatient. Sometimes I am impressed with how well I handle it all, and sometimes I am shamefully disappointed. I sometimes hear things coming out of my mouth, and even though I am thinking everything through, nothing seems to come out right. It is frustrating to feel so out of control and so uncertain of myself, of my feelings, of my future.

And it seems to constantly mount. I miss my sister who lives in Boston and I worry about the distance between us and growing apart. I worry that I am going to do something to upset the people around me by doing what I want to do, and I am having a hard time finding the middle ground between being completely passive to please those around me, and selfish to the point of isolation. This sometimes creates this cycle of guilt, but more than that is makes me feel as though I am not living up to a certain expectation that I have of myself.

Expectations are equally as defining as certainties. Except an expectation has an even heavier fallout. It can be too high, too low, misguided, unrealistic, or daunting. How often do you hear of an expectation being just right? It is most often - "oh that was so much better than I thought it would be," or "That was really disappointing..." It is either a stunning surprise or an epic disappointment. I wonder why as humans we find ourselves fueling an emotional see-saw instead of just finding peace suspended in the middle. Maybe the middle is too boring, but sometimes I could use a little more middle in my life - a lowering of expectations - true self-satisfaction.

I have always been a very self-aware person which is why my expectation is to know how I feel and to have that understanding be rational to myself and others. This is not always the case - and of course it isn't. I am human. But it frustrates me. My mom today came to me with tears in her eyes and told me that a dear acquaintance unexpectedly passed away from cancer in the beginning of June. She was a wonderful woman and I admired her and had a close bond with her considering our actual time spent together was very short. I was shocked and sad, but I couldn't cry, and I quickly moved on with my day. My mom thought I would be completely distraught, and I felt guilty but for some reason I just felt nothing.

Maybe I didn't want to feel sad in light of all of the other emotions I have been trying to keep at bay. I think past recent experiences have made me question my place and build a wall up creating an uncontrollable emotional void. I really don't want to feel the worry and the sadness, but I also don't feel right when I feel shut off or disconnected and I am standing there unfazed, feeling like a heartless person.

I guess I just wish I felt more in tune with myself right now, because I am feeling a little lost. Being home around the few people who can undress my many layers leaves me feeling exposed and confused and even sometimes angry they couldn't just let me stay all wrapped up. Your family is like a mirror that shines a bright light on the things you sometimes don't want to face.

In the midst of this babble, here is what I am certain of: Right now, during this shifting point in my life, I feel everything - so much - too much. The problem is when you feel everything all at once, often you feel nothing at all.