Growing Pains

I haven't been writing. I've been thinking about writing and telling myself I should be writing, but not actual writing. I don't know if the few sentences I write in my journal every few days counts. Maybe? I really hate knowing what I should do and not actually doing it.  That fear of failure is really paralyzing.  It shouldn't even really matter, I have no real friends here, no one to impress. No one will actually see me fail except my boyfriend (who could probably care less) and myself.  I'm just sick of being under the thumb of my bills and money issues. Thinking that this online survey site or installing some tracking app on my phone is going to solve my problems makes those feelings go away temporarily but that's about it.
So, here's what I've been thinking about...

-What is my 'job worth' - ie how much do I think I'm worth getting paid versus what I'm actually making?

-Will they fire me if I don't move again?

-Can I make it teaching yoga and dog-sitting as my 'jobs'? Pay off debt, save, retire?

-Will I ever make more friends as a work-from-home 32 year old?

-Will I ever lose this spare tire of fat around my tummy?

-Do I love myself? And if I don't, can I?

-Am I going to fuck up the best relationship I've ever been in because of the above?

I am slowly putting myself out there, as I tend to be an all or nothing/black & white sort of person, which hasn't been so great. Maybe writing will help. Maybe it won't. Who knows.  That's part of everything I suppose. Not much is a slam dunk anymore.  There's at least a little risk in most things we do.  You could always get into an accident driving to the local grocery or coffee shop; the dog could get off the leash as you walk them and flee; you could die tomorrow. Risks big and small are all around us, but we are willing to do some things without even thinking of the risk and other times the risk is paralyzing. It boggles my mind and paralyzes me too! I am trying to allow it to be. To be whatever it needs to be. A motivator, a teacher, a guide, something I want to fuckin throat punch, you know whateves! All of this alone time for isn't awful because I need to work through this shit. Maybe I've spent a lot of my life avoiding it or not going about it in the right way and now I have the space to deal with it.
I need to write more. I need to do more. But MINDFULLY do it. Not just rush through.