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.