The sinking of my Titanic

For the past few years, I've been blessed with an easy and financially worry-free life. I've had everything I could have wanted, or asked for, and then some. I've been comfortable with money to spare. I've been on both sides of the coin in my life - I've had next to nothing, and I've had my cup running over. I could deal with a happy medium, but for the past few years it has been lovely to just live and enjoy it without worry for the next day. It's been a lovely cruise of comfort, security and material success.

And then we hit an iceberg. It was a horrific, violent crash and the ship has been sinking ever-so-slowly since. We're in the last days of sinking...I'm feeling frantic and frightened.

My friend Brandi described her family's experience with the very same thing as this...you run around, screaming and scared and you try as best you can to bail out the water but it keeps on coming in faster than you can dig out. So you become even more terrified, yelling and clawing and scurrying about...until finally, you bail into the tiny and frail life raft (that you're not sure can safely get you to shore) and see the balance of your cruise ship sink into the dark abyss.

Glug glug glug.

And just like that, your strong ship of success and security is gone without a trace.

And then the screaming stops. There is nothing left but you and your family, and an ocean of overwhelming possibilities and fear. You float on, getting seasick at times, and all around you is a deafening cloud of silence that overcomes you. There is no crying anymore, no more yelling and no more of that anxious and evil anticipation that ate a hole through your stomach. It all just kind of floats away. Because it's here now - the day you had been dreading, the dawn whose threat has kept you awake at night and stolen your appetite, motivation and energy during the day. It's here now, and there's no denying it and no more fighting it. It's here, so you learn to work with it and peacefully co-exist with it until a rescue boat finds you or you find a shore.

I am so emotionally spent from months of worry and fear. I feel sad to say that at this point, the final sinking is almost a welcome release from the anxiety and dread that has ruled over my life for months.

Come, sea! Come, future! Come quickly and take me with you. Come quickly and show us the next stop on our journey. The sooner the ship sinks, the faster we are free to row away together in our tiny life raft to an exciting new chapter in our lives. I'm ready to transition into whatever the future holds. Just get me off this ship.