Enthralled in the shackles of Peril and other Pirate stories

This would be the name of my children's series of Pirate Tales or alternately, the title for a semi-erotic novel (for adults, obviously! Geez guys!).

In any case, I wanted a more punchy title than what is really on my mind which is the perils of commitment in all shapes and forms. You see lately I have been entertaining the thought of joining a new gym. It's shinier and newer and intense-er. It's also more expensive, but let's not get into that. the fact of the matter is, the money is not the issue. It's the 'being locked down for a year or two' that is actually where the panic sets in. My excuse is that I've been holding onto the very cliched phrase, "Well, I can't. I'm kind of a commitment-phobe". Isn't that the mantra of all single ladies and gents in their late twenties who actually mean to say that they have no idea why they can't really connect to anybody or who find any sort of planning terrifying or alternately, the mantra of those singles who inexplicably hate most other humans and don't really know the non-psychotic way to tell sane people this fact (ding, ding, this is me!).

No, but seriously. I have been battling with this idea of commitment and my resentment for any sort of long-term goals. I guess there's a part of me (an overwhelming part, I guess) that has this fear of falling. Cliche#2: The fear of failure (and the subsequent fear of success). I think I need to get over this fear of failure and loss and disappointment. I get the psychology, but it still does NOTHING for me.

Alternate theory: I'm trapped in some sort of time warp where I'm like that deadbeat obnoxious kid in a late 80's, early 90's tv show who wears a handkerchief around my head, denim ripped up vest and neon high tops (bullies were so colourful back in the day) who loathes any sort of planning and constantly yells "Don't tell me what to do! I don't follow your bogus rules!" Yes. I think I'm in sort of teenage rebellion phase. Planning and passion are for squares, man. Yeah, yeah, totally.

What's the resolution? I hear in most scenarios recognizing the problem is the first step. I let it stew in this step for unnaturally long periods. I am hoping step#2 is quit thinking about it and blogging it to death into this massive abyss (more pirate-y vocab) and just fucking get yourself out there and do something. Fear of commitment is just an unwillingness to trust in your plans (Plans with a capital P, if you're religious, I guess). Henceforth, to borrow from Nike, just do it and don't be such a chicken shit (borrowed from someone's grandpa, probably).