Yank

I wrote 1600 words in a writing exercise. I used some techniques from my workshop to build a plot. Now I know that I can write a novel, because the mechanics are easy and I am not short of ideas. I didn't say a good novel. But I stopped because my fingers got tired. So i can easily write a long story, so a novel.

I'm super happy to be alone right now. All I want is to clean my apartment and write. I believe that writing is my escape and my refuge, and I like it. Alas I have social events and people to see. Heck I even have a boyfriend and a job. How did that happen?

I am again low on energy. Just a note. Somewhere I heard that a stressful childhood makes you age faster and impairs your abilities to deal with emotions. Damn. I also heard that I have at least 6 siblings and cousins on meds because of severe anxiety. But I just had a thought.

Maybe nothing is wrong with me. Maybe there are no deep dark secret, insanity, genetic disorder, psychological illness, special development, phobias, deviations, disabilities, syndromes, irregular mind, no particularities about me. Maybe I am just Normal.

Very introspective, but normal.

That does wipe out a lot of stress, anxiety, fear, shame.

That's the one: shame. That's the evil. Let me yank it out with a spoon right now.

Thanks. Aaaaaah.

Amourx.