I feel the need to just write. This used to be easy to do on my unintentionally hidden, free, Wordpress blog. But now, I feel the need to write a certain way on here: to come to prescribed solutions through templated means. I know who my subscribers are, and what will they think of this? Shouldn't I wait until everything is tripled-edited and I have the best (free) photos generous internet people can provide?
I'm irritated by this. These current tumbling words are my rebellion against the need to fit a tagline.
I have mentally written so. many. blogposts. But alas, they don't reach the real world. Sometimes it's because I'm too busy, but more often it's mismanaged time and, semi-ironically, my anxiety. Yes, my anxiety keeps me from writing about anxiety (and, really, anything for that matter). It's not so much that I think people won't like what I write; it's more of an inability to focus on one line of thinking long enough. But inadequacy is there, too.
I'm pushing through day four of an anxiety haze and this is the best I have handled it since I don't know when. Just ask the boyfriend. Praise God, verily.
I thought that if I eat well, exercise super regularly, have consistent devotions, and am moderately productive, anxiety would cease. But that's not the case for me. I'm grateful, though, that I do have a deeper tenacity to press on that is unique within this positive framework. Like a "forget you, anxiety, you don't get to run the show" kind of attitude. It's a refreshing departure from the norm. It also makes everything feel delightfully defiant:
Forget you anxiety, I'm going to exercise anyways.
Whatever anxiety, I'm going to pray anyways.
Anxiety is dumb, I'm going to be patient with this cray student anyways.
Screw. You. Anxiety. I'm going to write these thank you cards if it is the last thing I do!!
Yes, these are real internal (sometimes audible) conversations.
I'm going to shade in the box next to "Worried Sapling" in my bullet journal to-do list as soon as I publish this gloriously picture-less post. I was going to write about being direct but (shrugs), that can wait until tomorrow. Jesus loves me even if anxious intrusive thoughts tell me He doesn't. Because He does. I will now ignore my laundry in the washer, leave a rambly voicenote for the boyfriend, and read about North Korea (I'm on a North Korea defector book marathon). Then, I will sleep.
This was refreshing to write. Thank you for reading, kind ones.