I have panic attacks. Just about every time I attempt to do something I've never done before I panic. Sometimes when I do things I've already done and realize I have to go through it all over again I lose my mind.
Yes, I lose my mind. I lose everything fucking sense I have.
Sometimes I scream out the frustration. The safest place to scream is twitter. I can scream in words and rarely does anyone pay attention. Well, its safe until one day down the line someone is looking for something to shame me with. Sometimes I scream in the privacy of my own home. I shout. My echoes bounce back at me making me even more frustrated. The echoes remind me that I'm alone.
In my moments of frustration I find myself alone. I'm not sure how it has happened, but the older I get, the farther away my closest friend tend to get.
Why is it this way? I could easily talk my frustrations out over a nice strawberry daiquiri or dance it out with friends at some club. But since there's no one I could hang out with, no one that would be readily available, I choose being comforted by my tears. It's something powerful about tears. The way they come out whether I really want them to or not. The way they fall like raindrops. Sometimes they'll come out two or three drops and then I'll feel silly. I can easily wipe them away and pull myself together. Sometimes they fall harder, like a thunderstorm. I just have to let them drop for what seems like forever until I feel like I have absolutely nothing left.
Once the process is done with, I feel rejuvenated. I feel like I can do anything I put my mind to. Honestly this process is what happened during the time of writing my book and getting it ready for submission. I was good. Writing it was fun. Waiting for it to be edited left me a little anxious. Realizing that all I had to do was submitted it to a website and it would be published was super frustrating.
But then I did. I got past the nervousness and now I'm a published author with totally new reasons to fall apart. However, the most important part of the process is over. My name is on a book that is for sale.
Okay, okay. I don't always break down like this. Sometimes I can call one of those friends that is far away and talk it out over the phone.
This post is part of Twenties Unscripted Write Your Ass Off April.
WWW.SEARCHINGFORMYSTAR.COM, My Life Your Entertainment. Your Life Everyone's Entertainment.
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