When it moves

Things are picking up.

I wake up every morning feeling anxious and worried and I sit in bed until I think of all of the things about which I could (whether or not I should) feel anxious and worried about so that these uncomfortable feelings are attached to many facts (or just fears)...and it is only then that I can get out of bed. This is a strange unpleasant way to live my life and so I pray about it but haven't really let go because I think I am so afraid of new feelings that I force myself to wallow in them.

But now, the facts that I attach my anxieties to are my progress. Things are finally going somewhere with my work and now, instead of being worried that I won't accomplish anything, I am worried that I will screw up the things I've finally started to accomplish. I stood in front of a room of firemen and stuttered and mumbled and stared at everything but their faces...but then tried to learn from my mistakes.

Non-work life wise, I am optimistic. I spend too much time alone but I have found a church that I am enjoying, a once-a-month movie event that I have been to once and had a blast at (I love biting my tongue and hearing the amazing, and sometimes not-so-amazing, insights of non-film buffs talking about a film in an honest and real way), a free sewing class that I hope will some day lead me to actually completing a project, and an organization that pretty much focuses on what I want to do with my life: InkTank.

My incredible parents fascilitated a vacation to Chicago, my first time in that beautiful city, and it was the further boost in morale that I needed. Today my tummy aches but tomorrow I look forward to going back into work and fighting my anxieties with consistent productivity.