Winding down and freaking out

I've given my notice at my job, and I'm trying to simultaneously wind down and tie up a million loose ends.

We fly out tomorrow to try to find an apt. because I'm not sure how long we'll be there and I don't want to get trapped in a house or neighborhood we're unhappy with. I'm committment phobic. {You know... I'm always the guy in the relationship. The one who is typically irritated by spooning (I'm not big on being held), who feels foreplay is usually a waste of time... the one who doesn't call when I say I will... the one who would rather go fishing with a cooler full of beer than attend a chick flick, the one who doesn't want to talk about "feelings" and "where is this relationship going" and always forgets anniversaries and birthdays. Yeah, I'm that girl.}

As I attempt to stare down the giant pile of documents piling over my desks (I actually have two offices now) I keep thinking...

I feel like I am choking. There is not enough air.

There is so much to be done.
There is so much I haven't even started.
There is so much that I have to finish.
There is so much that I don't even know where to start.

And then I get stressed. And then I realize...

There are only 24 hours in a day.
I am only one person.
I do not have superpowers.

When I go home at night, I try to study - pushing myself to remember the minutea of criminal procedure, conflicting constitutional dicta spewed from the Supremes, rules of procedure and evidence, and all the things I tried so hard to forget after the bar exam two years ago. The problem with learning another state's laws are that they are just familiar enough to make you comfortable and yet foreign enough that you find yourself utterly confused and exposed. I have one month and three days until the bar exam. one month and three days. As the words roll across my tongue in anything other than the softest whisper my heart palpitates and I feel faint.

When I took it before I studied for at least seven weeks straight. No work. No trying to coordinate a cross-country move. No distractions.

I have two weeks left of work. Fourteen days, nine work days. I am supposed to be at a doctor's office today having a cyst tested, but I had to cancel the appointment - because I am so innundated with work here.

There are fifteen days until my birthday. By now, I thought I would have "done" something with my life. Something meaningful. Something lasting. Something that would bring other people happiness or meaning. I feel so insignificant. I feel like I have failed to do anything other than live a life of mediocracy.

When I first moved here, I didn't know anyone. I came here to be with someone that I thought I loved. Someone that I found only loved my potential, my promise of being a trophy... not me. Late nights, with him in another state, I would sit on the beach in the moonlight letting the waves lap at my bare legs. I felt so tiny... so small when faced with the enormity of the ocean - with the vast expanse of waves stretching out as far as I could see.

I have one month before we will need to be packed, two cars sold, a yard sale finished, other stuff toted off to charities, a bar exam taken, vet records picked up, doctor visits planned, so many thousands of things.

I got my bar application in on the very last permissible day, so I'm not even sure that they will let me sit for it as a few crucial documents were still missing from it. As I've already given my notice here, I am in tremendous financial trouble if they don't.

I keep waking up in the middle of the night with my heart racing worrying about everything I have to do. I feel so alone.

I can't breathe.

I thought about going to the beach to "think"... but to be quite honest I am afraid that the depth of my insignificance and powerlessness may overcome me.