So, yes. Yes, I have been away for a while. I would apologize but you see. It’s really been out of my control.
That’s what happens when anxiety strikes. You’re rolling along. All confident and what not. Writing stuff and feeling great about it. And then…
It can be anything really. Hearing a co-worker complain about her life. Then all of a sudden, you internalize what she is saying. You are overcome with a sweat and dry mouth. In the middle of winter. You begin to remember how you feel about things. Sure. Life is good. But it could always be better. You have a masters degree, what are you doing at that job anyway. … Because you suck. That’s why. You’re just … I’m not even going to continue.
And then. You remember. You actually kick a lot of ass. Yes. You have a masters degree. But. The economy is still in a shit tank and you have bills to pay. And? While you hate the job you have, you aren’t bad at it and you do help people. That matters for something. You have your health, you have wonderful family and friends. It’s going to all work-out.
And, it kind of goes around in a little vicious circle. A negative comment from someone you thought was a friend, could send you into an absolute spiral. Too many rainy days? Yeah. Bye. Too much negativity. Being around someone I really don’t like or that makes me uncomfortable as fuck? Being in TOO new a situation? Yeah. Really anything sets it off.
It sucks. BAD.
Thankfully there is medication. Ha! And most importantly, for me there has always been writing. You see, you would say talking it out probably. But. I get flustered trying to express myself through words a lot. It comes out scattered. Yeah. It’s bad! You’d probably be ok with it, though. You’d understand. Maybe. But. I’d be uncomfortable so!
So. It’s even worse when you feel like shit about your writing. Especially when it’s been your outlet since you were 16. I first began writing around that age. It was an incredible outlet. Everything I was feeling? I could write it out and feel a gagillion times better. I enjoyed it so much, I even made it journalism my major in college. I was actually really good at it. Worked at a couple of local newspapers. Won awards. I felt like I made a difference. And then, I ran across some folks who really tore my confidence down. It was never my writing that was criticized. It was always something else. Mostly, a woman in the newspaper industry. And I could never really get over the criticism. So. I moved on. Got that masters degree in public administration all on my own. Hoping to make a difference with writing grants. But. … That’s the hardest area to get into that you’d ever believe.
So. Here I am. Always looking for opportunities where I could use that MPA or that journalism degree. Sticking it out with an interesting job that is incredibly frustrating at times. Because paying the bills is important and one of these days – It will get better. And I have to remain confident in that. Otherwise? Well!
Basically, I have been dealing with a lot in my headspace and couldn’t really communicate. And I feared that if I did communicate it – I would come off dumb and pathetic. You would wonder about me and if I really should be writing.
And honestly, that’s something I have to learn, and relearn, not to worry about.
That will forever be something I am working on. In addition to dealing with my confidence. Dealing with my anxiety.
Anxiety is a topic I will discuss again! It’s something I live with and I know many of you do, too.
It’s always nice to know you aren’t alone.