Posts Tagged ‘tired’

Anxiety

Posted: April 26, 2014 in Blogging
Tags: , , , , ,

I don’t know what it is about my daily life, but it seems like everything gives me anxiety anymore. Have to send a text to someone? Anxiety. A phone call? Anxiety. Walking into a room to draw blood? Anxiety. Time at home with the hubby? You guessed it: anxiety.

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I find that my happiness is based less on who I am and more on who I was. As I get further from the past I feel dissatisfied with my future.

My future is full of love and laughter but I dread it every step of the way. As the things I treasure spiral into oblivion I feel crushed.

Anxiety about my future cripples me. “Cold feet,” I suppose. I’m not where I thought I would be. I’m in a better place.

I made these tweets this morning and I could have gone on, but I decided to use my blog before I got ready to get my windshield replaced. I’ve come to the realization that my life is nowhere near what I thought it would be. Then again, I didn’t necessarily have very high hopes for my own future. I never saw myself as a writer. I never saw myself as married. I knew I wasn’t going to have children. Hell, I’m surprised I even finished college. You could say that my expectations for my own life weren’t very high.

As I think about my life now, I realize that my expectations haven’t risen much. My anxiety, on the other hand, has multiplied. Part of me feels as if it’s leftover from the traumas that I’ve happened to experience through random happenstance. My anxiety has caused me to separate myself from all the things I love. I withdraw from others and find excuses, reasonable and logical excuses, to exclude myself. I feel lonely even though I’m not alone anymore. I don’t pretend to understand it either.

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I haven’t updated in a while, because there really isn’t much to update. We’re not very far along on anything and that’s basically, because I tend to not focus on anything that gives me anxiety. Since it’s inception, the wedding has given me anxiety. Why? I have no clue. I don’t want to be anxious, but it really is a serious life change. I’m going to go from singular to plural again. I mean, I’m with my man now so I’m technically not single, but I go from “able to be functional by myself” to part of a family unit that will depend on the both of us to survive. I don’t know why I see it differently. I guess it’s just the thought of having no “escape” whatsoever. The deal is that I don’t need an escape from this man. He is amazing in every way that the others have not ever been, but anxiety has a way of twisting everything into something worse than it ever could be. I think that’s the real problem. I’m just super-anxious about everything going on right now: wedding, money, work, etc.

My mother and I are going shopping for my wedding dress and doing wedding-like things this weekend. I took the weekend off so we could do it and I am looking forward to that. The dress shopping, not so much. It’s going to be more of me looking at dresses and them measuring me to order one in my size. I only want to spend about $200, but I know that’s not going to reality. I’m far too large to get a dress for $200. It’s going to probably make me cry, but I’m going to be strong. I just want to focus on the things that will be nice like hanging out with my mom and, hopefully, my brother. I can do it.

Lately, I’ve been having these super-strong feelings that feel as if my writing muse is trying to get back into my head again. Part of me is too lazy to sit still and try to focus, but part of me is not wanting to get started on something that I know I won’t ever finish. I’ve had so many people being helpful and supportive in my writing here lately that it’s hard to ignore my own personal muse. It’s like she’s knocking on my brain and wanting to be let back inside, but I’ve got this snowbank that’s been blown up to the door. I’m home and I want to let her in, but the snow is so deep that I can’t get the door open to get her back inside. I’m tired and I feel old, but I hear from so many people that thirty is nowhere near old. I feel ran down and as if I’ve given out all my creative energies too soon. I’ve used them all up and even my muse can’t get them back.

I don’t feel depressed anymore really. I just feel run down and tired. Ugh.

This was written sometime within the past 12-18 months, but I only recently found it. I have done very little editing, but it’s because I wanted to just type it up and then edit it later. I’m too tired to do any edits so I’m sticking it up raw. Also, I always have trouble with paragraph formation when it comes to including or not including dialogue so if anyone could give me some pointers, I’d appreciate it.

Title: Untitled
Summary: My avatar stories are going to span multiple generations. This was something I had in my head some years ago about the present incarnations of their lives.
Word Count: 1,346

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It’s payday again and, well, the money is already spent. Again. For two checks in a row, I’ve had to pay bills and use pretty much every dime to make sure the bills were paid. I didn’t realize just how much it would be for us to live where we live. Were it not for the fact that my man gets our satellite for the price of working where he works then we wouldn’t have it at all. The internet alone is nearly seventy dollars (middle of fucking NOWHERE), but we use it more than we use the actual television. I mean, I use the TV now, because I now have several primetime shows that I love. Arrow, Supernatural (more him than me), Psych (I don’t like this one at all), and The Science Channel (definitely my channel) fill our home weekly. I am DEEPLY in love with Arrow. I have been following it since day one and enjoy the hell out of it. The season finale is next week and, Jesus, I’m looking forward to it. That’s well beyond the point I’m making, but I must spread the world of the great Green Arrow and how awesome they’ve made him on The CW.

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The best advice I’ve received about my writing, so far, was given to me by a random person that I had never spoken to before. How they found my short blurb announcing to the world that I was giving up, I can’t say for sure, but I’ve thought about it off and on for a little while and realize that they are probably correct.

Do you write for the pleasure of it? Nothing should take it away from you if that be the case. Perhaps instead of writing for others to thread with you, write for yourself.

I don’t remember the last time I wrote for myself rather than for the amusement of others. I think that’s always been what’s on my mind when I do write. I’ve also had a struggle within myself about my writing. I want to tell a story that I love and share it with others, but part of me wants no one to ever read what I write for fear that they’ll criticize it. Criticism would only help me expand my writing and make it better, but I don’t like criticism. Criticism just discourages me and makes me not want to try again and that’s in all aspects of my life. Criticize any of my work and I no longer wish to do whatever it was that you were critical about. I suppose you could call me overly-sensitive.

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I haven’t blogged in a month and, honestly, I have no real excuse.

Oh, I can give you excuses (I was sick; my man was sick; I was busy; I was tired; I was depressed), but none of them really amount to much considering all I have to do is drop a short paragraph into this thing and, ta dah!, I’ve blogged. There are so many things I’d like to talk about without really talking to anyone about them. My wedding. My feeling of failure. My constant feelings of dissatisfaction and malaise. Above all, my intense anger over any and everything that isn’t how I expect it to be. Lately, the anger itself has given into the malaise and boredom, but I’d prefer the anger just because it’s an actual feeling.

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