Feelers

I think it's been a bit since I've just sort of told you what's going on with me and my life.  Part of the reason for that is that I feel like this blog should be my super serious, super professional place to Do Stuff, and that's not even what I wanted this to be.

I mean, yes, I do want this blog to be known and respected, but I want it to be known and respected for everything that it is, everything that I am, and I am so much.  Besides anxious and incapable of putting forth a full, dedicated effort for fear of failing and falling and looking foolish, I am a writer, a poet, I am so much and so many things.

Today, I am afraid.

This is really not a surprise, I have anxiety, I don't sleep or eat well, so that exacerbates my anxiety, and my aunt is prone to yelling when stressed, which, naturally, helps nothing.

I have to admit that I'm afraid of putting in effort, like really and truly trying to make things work, because what if I try and try and try some more, and I still can't do it?  What if I do it, but badly, and everyone laughs at me and judges me?

I don't fucking know.

What I do know is that I have a job, a way to be gainfully employed, even though it's over the internet, and that terrifies me beyond all reason.  What if I don't make enough money? What if I get stuck writing terrible articles about things I don't care about or even hate for the rest of my life?

So basically, the usual things I always get bogged down in when I've been awake too long or had too little to eat.

There is candy in the house, I can earn money, my phone bill is paid for at least another month, I know how much it'll cost to repair my laptop, I know how to find out how much I'll have to pay in taxes for what I'll be earning, my commission post has been redone and is queued, I know how the Champion series is going, and there is c h o c o l a t e in the house.

I need to take two deep breaths and go.  The fuck.  To sleep.

On an unrelated note, earlier, I was feeling really crummy, and I remembered something I read in a Christian book, one of the few Christian books I ever read, but it's called the Shack, and there's one scene where the main character is talking to a representation of an aspect of God, and she tells him something to the effect of, "If you knew you had to fail 99 times before you succeeded, wouldn't you be excited to fail the 90th time?"

I don't remember what his answer was, but I remember that he generally agreed with her.  I told you that to tell you that earlier, when I was feeling shitty, I reminded myself that I didn't know how many times I had to fail before I could succeed, so I just had to keep trucking.

Also, my aunt got really upset today when she was cooking for a going-away party for a friend, because the sauce she was making came out catastrophically wrong in ways it usually never does, and she's prone to running around and yelling when she's upset, but I was really proud of myself, because rather than also freaking out, or freezing when she got upset, I was able to stay centered and mostly calm, so I'm really proud of myself for that!

This post sort of ended in a completely different place than it began, but that's probably because I took a bit to finish working through my panic before continuing, so that may contribute.  I don't know if this is going to be one of my best posts, but it's real and it's me, and I said I was going to make a mistake, so I'm going to make it hard.