One thing I never do, is read back posts that I have written. The most I do is proof read the blog before I post it, to check for errors. Today, without thought, I checked on my site from a viewer’s perspective. I wanted to check the layout and make sure it was easily accessible etc.
This led me to read through my latest post, which is a poem. When I read it, it was as if someone else had written it. I then proceeded to read a creative writing piece from the end of last year. It was written by a braver me. The woman who wrote that knew what she wanted and she had decided to look fear dead in the eyes and finally take control. I wonder what happened to her, because I was certainly not in control of my anxieties last night. I digress, that was not the point of this post.
What I noticed reading back, was that I very much write in the moment, to the point where I sometimes do not even recognise it being my own writing. I am not sure what this says, nor do I think it matters much.
Back to what I said at the end of last year: I vowed to not let anxiety lead my life and I think from an outside perspective, that is a very good idea and I should listen to December me and tell my anxiety to take a long walk off a short cliff.
If you allow me to get real for a moment, I am stuck. Stuck waiting for the next step in moving on, but I cannot move on without taking the next step and I cannot take the next step without the okay of the outside forces. The waiting has led to ‘what if‘ worries piling up on top of me and it has led to too many sleepless nights. I detest my life being in the hands of others, but there is nothing I can do about it. And so, I wait. Waiting for me constantly leads to worrying and I can distract my mind, at least until the sun goes down. When darkness falls, I lose control of logical thinking. Mr. Anxiety wakes up and wants to play all night long. It is like I am programmed this way and I have never been able to find the hard reset button.
All I can do now is hope I hear some news soon. I need good news. I need to feel like this place is my home. Right now I do not exist outside of my physical form and that leads me to feel like I do not belong. I feel unaccepted; Just hanging out in limbo waiting for my number to be called. The thing is, I’m here alone, so what is taking so long?
On a lighter note, I have been working on the back stories of some of the characters from my book. It has been enjoyable to get to know them and I have got so into writing their profiles, that they could have their own separate stories at this point.
I am also working on a project with my good friend Andex. I am writing a short story which he will be turning into an animation. The story line is pretty much set, we are just working on style and direction. So far I am very excited with how it is forming. I cannot wait to see what he produces animation wise. It is a very exciting project.
I am glad I have things to keep me busy and I shall persist to remain positive and hope for the best.
I realise I went back to my tangent, but I have to go the way the writing takes me! Random fact: That is the first time I have referred to myself as a woman. I do not really know why, but I feel more like a girl, despite my age.
Until next time, you are perfect just the way you are.