Changes...

I don't normally like change unless I'm in total control over it. I probably don't have to mention that the total control thing doesn't happen often... So I'm in the middle of a lot of changes right now. In a little over a year, I'll change my name - a change I want, so it's not so scary. I'll be moving out of my parents house - goes hand in hand with changing my name, so while a little scary, necessary and will be welcomed. I've got my first "real" job, which is terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

The big change, though, is changing schools. It's not carved in stone yet, but as soon as I know I'm admitted... I just completed my third year of college. I'm not supposed to be doing this whole thing again! Applications, admissions offices, campus maps... It's a very strange feeling. People transfer all the time. But I don't. I don't transfer. Except now I do. And while it is my choice, it's not really. Because if I didn't have POTS, this sneaky little disability, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. I wouldn't need to transfer. Because I would be "normal." And "normal" people don't irk their professors by being behind even when they're busting their butts. "Normal" people don't have to fight to prove they're capable of college-level work, to prove they actually are intelligent human beings who just happen to have some obstacles in their lives. And since you can't force people to accept you, to stop judging, to take 20 minutes out of their day to do a little research and actually understand what on earth is going on...I'm transferring.

I'm frustrated. I'm sad. I'm excited. I'm leaving friends behind, my life behind. I'm leaving a beautiful campus behind, adorable ducklings and all. But I get to start again, and I get to work with a disability office (insert cheers here).

So I'm trying to accept changes. Because they are, after all, usually for the best. I think. I hope. Right?