Anxiety Monologue

There is a shadow that follows me, and even as I write this, it hangs itself over my head. But, I know it by name. It is anxiety. To best summarize how I feel, and to summarize this process, it's hell. I've just given the final draft to my editor, but I'm no longer thrilled. The anxiety struck the moment I pressed send. The excitement is now replaced with uneasiness and fear. I want to reel these words back in, forget them, and live life as if they've never been written. From the moment it happened, I knew this wasn't the anxiety that accompanied depression. It isn't one that comes with trying times, either. It is a beast all its own. It walks the line of terror, blurring everything in its path.

I'm afraid because I've gotten lost in this world once. And with this book, it's like I'm being set free in it once more, and I'm worried about getting lost again. These stories are my life, my children, my babies, and to let them go after spending so much time separated was a hard thing to do. I was uncomfortable with these stories, but it's in my discomfort where I grow the most. The truth has broken my chains, but it
Living through one mind and two eyes can only give you a certain taste of it. To step back and look at the bigger picture is an entirely different ball game. But, that's what I've done. I've given life and air to these stories, knowing they'll take on a meaning all their own. With this stories, I don't mean to seek revenge, nor do I want to start a conflict. I mean to hold those accountable for their actions without seeking punishment for them. I know my story doesn't reveal just me--it casts others into the light as well, and that's when telling this story becomes difficult. During this process, I was often unsure of what to say, what I could say, and what I should say, etc. These experiences surround me with others, and it's impossible to tell you about my journey without telling you about