Ascend #WYAOApril

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.