Anxiety has been my constant companion. For a brief moment in time I was not anxious. Then it sidled up alongside me and came along for the ride. I call anxiety the Dragon. It helps me to see it that way. At its heart, the Dragon lives for, to perpetuate fear. Many things I’ve done in my life was because of, or despite, fear. And that’s what the Dragon wants.
I sometimes face my fears, and when I do, it’s like jumping off a cliff. There’s a moment where I feel like I’m hovering in midair, then a split second where I feel like I don’t exist, then a downwards plunge into the fear. It never gets easier. The Dragon casts a long shadow. The prospect of meeting it is enough to stop me.
I thought about not doing this, not getting up in the morning and writing these few paragraphs. I mean, what’s the point, right? But that’s not me. It’s the Dragon speaking to me, filling my mind with doubt. It may not seem like it, but there’s a battle for my soul taking place. Yes, it feels that dramatic (sometimes). It could also be the.
I commit myself to getting up in the morning and writing at least 300 words, and publish it online. I’ll do this despite gut-wrenching anxiety, wild mood swings, fear, self-doubt, self-consciousness, self-loathing, and a pervasive sense of. This is my climb out of the pit of depression. This is what I know how to do. In some morbid way, this gives me purpose. I have strengths, talents, and gifts to contribute to the world. They’re just covered up by all the bullshit. My job is to clean off all the crap that’s accumulated in my life. Some of it is my fault, some of it isn’t. There comes a point when it doesn’t matter who’s at fault. Someone needs to take on the responsibility of making things better. I’m ready to do that.