Apparently the storm has passed, and now I’m feeling the tailwind of anxiety that comes after. I did what I know works: I wrote it out. I told people. I broke out my long list of things to do instead of just sit in my feelings. And they still ran amok. But it passed (I think).
I think I might have a clue about what triggered it. If I’m right, then I’ll be fighting these emotions until that specific day comes and goes, so I’ve got a few more days of this crap.
I’m okay though. Just worn tf out.
on a super dank high note, my bff’s husband celebrated his 40th birthday!! We are of the same brain in that, if there is no other reason, then celebrate on behalf of the many people we know who didn’t live to see their own 40th.
Hell, I’ve died twice already. Was clinically dead for eight minutes total. I came back from one to a three week coma. So yeah. I celebrate the hell out of my birthdays.
He and his native British accent with his gruff voice allows him to do David Attenborough impressions with ease. He’s the reason I learned why fanny packs are worn in the front. Lol (because they’re worn over your fanny, not your bum…back bum)
Anyway, I gotta go, I am exhausted because of my brain, and my sleep has been crap. I need to rest and read my short story draft all the way through.
Tomorrow is internet day!!! 🎉