Where's the hope for White Chocolate?

I heard from the women that I took self defense class with that the man who has assaulted one woman on her doorstep and beat the shit out of her, and raped another woman at gunpoint three blocks from my house has raped another woman. And yet a careful of young men thought it would be a good idea just now, in the pouring rain and darkness of my corner, to stop their car at the intersection and yell at me, "Hey there, white chocolate!" and not drive away. And I really didn't feel like running into a different apartment building or something, like perhaps I should've so that they wouldn't see where I live. But now I'm thinking of taking the IMPACT Weapons course, so I'll have a better idea of what to do if I run into that guy.
There are some things that I just don't want to think about.
I was on my way home from a meeting with my dance teachers, who brought all of the dancers together to make the possibility of paid work seem more real, so that they can get a better sense of commitment from us. It made me feel scared. I think it is because I'm at a place in my life where everything seems so up in the air; my whole life can change based on how my grad school applications are responded to, this puts my job and relationship in jeopardy, and makes me feel crazy because I feel most safe when I can plan things in my future. But I can't plan much, because I don't know whether I will have to possibly start school in the summer or fall. And I don't know if I can rely on my relationship, I don't know what to do about having a job that wants to be able to make me commit to it, but won't know for months whether they can commit to me, and I don't know if I will be able -- or want to -- commit to it. And here come my dance teachers, who I want to respect and trust, dangling the opportunity of a dream life of performing, even just part time, that may or may not happen, that I may or may not be able to commit enough to depending on where my future may or may not lead me. And it's terrifying for them to say to me; trust us; give us your all; when I really want to, but know that it isn't certain. It makes me super emotional and scared.
But, on the other hand, I do know that I can rely on myself. And what they are asking from me is mostly that I discipline myself; commit to getting back into shape, and stay that way. It certainly isn't the idea of committing to rehearsals and performances that weirds me out; when I know I have a show going on, then being there for rehearsals and changing my life to work around that schedule is a given. What is really frightening to me is putting my hope on the line. Probably because I have so much hope out there already; school, relationship, moving, traveling.... And all of these things are somewhat out of my control right now; I've done most of what I can in those situations, for the time being. But to hope for dance; it requires such an immense amount of discipline and hard work and sweat and tears and pain that it's really hard to commit to without supporting that commitment with a large amount of hope and exaggerated expectations.
I suppose that I should take my own advice from earlier today, and think of my friend who has come to the bay area and created for herself the beginnings of a career in film, from which she is actually making enough money to get by on. It's stunning, really, what she's done. And I am nervous about putting myself in that venerable position of testing how good I am, since in some ways that feels like what I am doing with my grad school applications.
Isn't there some way I can flush some of this fear and anxiety out of myself and get back to the bravery that I know is inside of me? I know there must be... I just feel like my soul needs a hot sauna and a thorough scrubbing. But how?