At the airport

I'm at the airport and waiting for my flight. I'm a mix of sad and nervous as hell. I'm sad because I really feel so far down but nervous because my brain keeps telling me I'm headed for a failure. I just want to pull a Homer Simpson and tell my brain to shut up or I'll stab it work a Q-tip.

I feel really old and washed up. What the hell am I doing trying truck driving again!? I've failed at it before. Well, I'm trying to have a life not mired in poverty. The alternative is being a security guard and it will be a hand-to-mouth existence. I'm fighting an Autistic meltdown at the moment. I'm determined not to let that happen to me. I just need to make it to Charlotte. I'm not looking past simply arriving there.

There was some stress at the airport when I had to check two bags and spend more money than I had planned. I just need to make it to Charlotte. That's all. Nothing matters beyond. Well, I just successfully fought off the panic attack. It helped to call a family member.

I was already worked up about heading to training. Well, what do they say when you're going back to work after a prolonged time away? One step at a time, one goal at a time.