I’ve been feeling a lot of anxiety lately. While I’m used to feeling anxiety, overall, in my life, I’m more used to being depressed. The anxiety outweighing the depression these days has been new.
I know it’s all attributed to my finding a publisher for my book – a good thing – but for someone like me, it just causes my anxiety to spiral out of control. I care too much about what people think, I hope people will think I’m a good writer, that they’ll think I have something to say, that they won’t hate me for some of the things I’ve done.
I care too much.
I know logically I can and will never please everyone. Ever. I need to realize and accept this.
I’m mostly petrified about putting this much about my life out there for the world to see…I have to remember why I’m doing it…maybe I can help other people who are going through the same stuff I did…in my mind, it’s all worth it then.
In the meantime, I’ll try not to worry myself to death and try to focus on being healthy. My depression hasn’t completely gone away, either…it’s just been overshadowed for the time being.
I know that like everything else, this will all be okay, and it does no good to worry…but it’s easy to tell myself that. It’s harder to actually convince myself of it.
I’ve been trying to go back through the book and work on it and feel comfortable leaving in what I feel should be in it, even if it’s above the comfort level of what most people would put out there. At the end of the day, it’s still a memoir, and I’m an open person. I don’t necessarily want my parents to read it, but I think it has been cathartic for me, and maybe it can help other people. Maybe this is my purpose.