Ten Days to Go. Panic Sets In

Seems like today was just one long panic attack.

Turning back is no longer an option, but I surely would have opted to do so today were it still a possibility.

And I've no doubt whatsoever that I'll be heading into this devoid of any encouragement or support, this aspect continually making me reconsider why I should do this, though, I'm well aware: no one forced me to do this.

On top of that, the window I'm left with to prepare all that's needed is far too small; a minimum of one month is what I would have needed to get rid of my stuff in a manner I can feel good about and maximise whatever money I could have potentially made out of selling it all. But, had I not "forced" things, I never would have made the move, I suppose.

If things stay the same, I'm starting my journey barely able to afford a bread, is how things are shaping out. This is what's to be expected; my luck should suddenly change... why?

Plus, I'm a fool for having believed in anyone and having laid any degree of hope whatsoever on some individuals, thinking they may lend a hand helping me get to where I sincerely long to be.   

I'm not whining; I'm voicing a deep disappointment. I only have myself to blame, armed with yet another lesson I've had plenty of to know that I should have known better: never count on anyone, period! 

That said, if I'm to be honest, the closer I get to the 15th, the more I see myself simply heading West and hitting Banff right before the major tourist season opens up, making it easy to find some job that'll allow me to achieve nothing of consequence other than spend as much time as possible within the mountains I so very much love, eventually die on top of one when age makes things real bad, providing, I'm hoping, I won't have to be wheeled up. 

Otherwise, I can't force an interest that appears to be inexistant. As simple as that.

I'm so very tired of fighting alone. Hence, why fight at all?