Shaky hands, twitching fingers, mild scares and sleepless nights. My heart keeps beating a tad bit too fast for me. My anxiety may one day be the end of me (the more alive and creative version of myself and turn me into a zombie) It will cause my heart to gain a pace and beat that it can not handle and collapse within itself. It will render my mind useless and cause the rest of my body to quickly follow. Then the light in my eyes will go out.
What is it about approaching deadlines that makes me think less about myself and causes me to rethink decisions I made ages ago? Causes me to redo everything; words and phrases that I laboured to put down and breathe some life into. What is it that makes me want to hide out in a cave and not emerge, not even for sunlight until five minutes after the deadline? (with the work somehow magically submitted by a clearer headed version of myself, I suppose) What is it that makes me want to pull out my hair? Makes me scratch my skin even when it does not itch? Makes me want to run away, so far away, not from my work but from myself?
I sometimes think to myself, “Are my stories even good enough?” “Am I wasting my time?” Gosh I’m scared. A friend of mine recently said to me while I went on and on about this little issue of mine, “None of us would ever get anything done if we kept thinking about it instead of the work itself” The one thing keeping me going is that “This is what I want to do with my life.” In about two and a half years or less, I want my lifestyle to involve; sitting in cafes (I would have added having bottomless cups of coffee but, I’m not a coffee person. I like tea), looking like fashionable hipster/nerd (specs, perhaps dreads? perhaps…lol!! or a huge afro!!) typing and smiling or frowning to myself; depending on the emotion I spill and pour into the stories I am writing at the time, researching different topics and aspects of a novel I’m writing, digging for awesome characters and ways to twist a story so much that one slowly forgets where they came from only to find more shock and great satisfaction at the end of it all while being reminded of where point A was and revealing a great big picture at the end, one that the reader couldn’t quite see in the beginning. (does all that make any remote sense?) That lifestyle would include a lot of baking too, attempts at making gourmet meals, making Julia Child meals (Bon Appetite!!) and experimenting with spices whose names I can’t quite pronounce. I don’t mind being employed somewhere as long as its worth my while and I can still pursue exactly what I want with the greatest amount of diligence.
The idea of being an elegant high class lady that wears only Fendi, Chanel and Louboutin with a sure stride in her step, constantly arranging meetings and making decisions that could change the course of a country’s economy and/or political social atmosphere is awesome. The kind with a large, beautiful and intricately designed office with her masters and doctorate awards hang all over the room right next to her expensive abstract art pieces. Television has surely sold us the image of that woman. I imagine that woman. I see her on television and in stories and I want to be her.
I do want to be that woman; but I want to be her while writing stories, heart-warming, earth shaking, breath taking stories; in the literal sense of all these words. Can I have it all? Perhaps?
Will I be her? Or will I bow to the pressures of this world and continue to study and pile up qualifications in a career that I take up? A career that my heart isn’t fully in love with but I must chase to keep clothes (read couture…Oh, my dreams!!!) on my back and be able to sooner than later move out of my parents’ home and afford my very own oven so I can always have food on my table…with dessert.
I guess everything that is truly worth it in our lives never comes easy. It has been said over and over again. This fright is so hard to shake off. It’s like a tick; it sucks my energy, it makes me dull, it makes me sick.
Because I am Christian and believe in God’s grace, favour and blessing in my life even in my times of doubt…like now…I at least believe that I’ll be able to play my part in touching the world in my own way. And because I am Christian, I do not believe that God would put a desire and a passion in my heart and watch it die or wither, unused and without fruit. (can I hear an Amen!!) So I shouldn’t be afraid. (AMEN!!) At least I know what I want to do for the rest of my life (Thank God for that)…stare at this screen and type away til the cows come home and til they go out to graze again. Some of my nocturnal/insomniac tendencies will come into play here of course.
I may not be able to completely control my anxiety, my panic, but the most I can do is look past it and look at the bigger prize ahead, the bigger picture and confirm that this anxiety is nothing compared to the amazing view that I catch a glimpse of when I manage to breathe and look past my fears and anxiety.
Yes, this blog post was nothing more than me trying to talk myself out of my silliness and regain sight of what I want. I don’t want to turn into a zombie and I certainly don’t want the light and sparkle in my eyes to go out. Never!!! But if this post helps anyone out there, then that is beyond awesome.