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Anxiety

I'm a happy, funny person that quickly gets upset if something's off. The best way to describe myself would be like a dog. Which I find to be a good thing. A dog is for the most part happy. Happy when it sleeps, happy when it goes out for a walk and happy when it spends time with its owner, However, if something is amiss, a dog will quickly resort to defending itself and change its demeanor rather quickly, but soon after will be happy again. I am always happy. Why? I live in my head, in my imagination. I spend time creating things while I am deep in thought, which is all the time. Life is hard, I know that all too well, but what has kept me afloat is my mind's tendency to wander about better days and laughing and silly things that pop in my head. But as of lately, I find myself clouded with not the best thoughts, which is unnatural for me. I guess all this time writing a book I got to live in my head and create the storyline, the characters, so much fun to spend time in my head. But now, that I have completely my work, I find myself repeatedly complaining about how to go about plotting my next move. This once funny gal is now consumed with nerves. I thought creating art would feel amazing. But I find myself after having completed my masterpiece, I didn't come out of the experience any braver or having a feeling of accomplishment. I feel scared. Now my imagination isn't my haven, but a place that creates negative scenarios in reference to my book. Fascinating how humans can just about put a negative spin even on the loveliest of things. Because I do realize what an accomplishment it is to have created written work that will hopefully entertain young adults everywhere. but nevertheless, I find myself wrestling with these new feelings that seem foreign to me. I have experienced a lot of difficult circumstances in my life. So why is this particular experience causing strange feelings to bubble up to the surface? So many factors to consider, fear of rejection, will people like my book, because my story is based on personal things that transpired in my own life, so my novel is a very sensitive subject matter to me. Also, fear of success, what if someone actually does want to read my book, that is the meaning of pure success to an author. Someone caring about what I had to say and taking the time to read my imagination on paper, with a little bit of real life thrown into the mix. I am not dealing with this new emotion very well. I'm glad I've chosen to write about it, because in this day and age, people read now more than ever, Texts, tweets, blogs, articles. So I have to start with baby steps. Today I admit I have been suffering from anxiety lately. Hopefully down the line I can be brave enough and admit to other things that I've gone through. I am not ready now, but I hope I will one day. But what I can do is be thankful that the women of today have finally broken the veil and have given women the strength to come forward with their stories. But what I am most thankful for is that people are finally listening. I have longed for that my entire life. To be listened to, to have a voice. Perhaps that is why I am filled with uneasiness. No one has ever truly really listened to me and my book represents the possibly of that taking place. Of someone actually paying attention to my words. How grand is that, to be acknowledged :)


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