OK. Time for an actual plan. Let’s do it.
Oh, I don’t frigging know. There’s too many possibilities and so I end up in that Infinite Corridor of Infinite Doors again.
Even though I know it’s all bullshit. If I really wanted to make a go of this Notd thing, I would just enter kamikaze mode, jump in with both feet, and figure it out.
And I am sure they have tons of resources for us writers on the site too. Suggestions for topics, tips for getting started, guides to general writing styles, and so on.
So really, the problem is that I am conflicted. I want to go out into the world and try to make something of myself, even if it’s only on the Internet, but a much deeper and stronger part of me is scared shitless to go out there and until I convince that part of me that exposure is not a fate worse than death, I’m not going anywhere.
Until then, I will not be able to plan jack shit. Damn it. When I try to imagine actually doing the thing everything in my mind just falls apart and shatters.
So once again, we end up where we always end up : with me trying to convince my inner child that it’s okay to go out and play.
The mean kids are long gone. I am not going to get bullied or attacked or mocked if people can see me. I don’t have to live like I’m hiding from the fucking feds.
Yes, going out there will trigger a massive rise in stimulation levels. Even when it’s safely mediated by my beloved screens. Being seen and interacting with others, possibly even in realtime, is definitely gonna freak me out.
At first. But everything sucks at first. That’s common knowledge. And if you want to get anywhere and/or do anything in life, you have to learn to hang in there and keep going until you make it through the beginning part that sucks.
Which involves getting over a too easily triggered flight response, I guess.
I am reminded of how my beloved babysitter Betty helped me get over my fear of loud noises when I was a preschooler.
There was a train going by just after we had crossed the tracks, and normally this would have sent me running because it was so loud. but Betty held me there, with the train passing five feet away, and stroked my hair and said things like, “See? Nothing’s happening. You’re okay. ” until the train had passed.
And you know what? It worked. I stopped being scared of loud noises right there and then. She helped me persist long enough to learn that the noises were no big deal. They couldn’t hurt me. I was fine.
I am going to try to remember that day. In that simple way she helped me to become less of a pussy, and I am eternally grateful for that.
Unfortunately, she was not there for the rest of my childhood.
Anyhow, enough reverie, back to the topic.
Which, as it turns out, is my fear. The fear that keeps me from being able to plan what I am going to do on Notd.
I feel like I can face my fear head on now. I can deliberately trigger it hard in myself and then just wade all through the fear till I pop out of the other side of it.
It’s not quite “leaning in” but it’s close.
And I am pretty sure that by doing so, I reduce the fear. Make it smaller. Deprive it of some of its power. Take control away from it.
And in doing so, be Betty to myself.
You see? Nothing bad is happening. You’re okay!
More after the break.
This can never be enough
It just… can’t.
If I honestly thought that this stupid pointless worthless fucking life of mine was all I was going to get until the day I die, I would just plain give up.
I would just go to bed and wait to die. Might as well get it over with. It’s not like I am going to be missing anything, and the world can sure as hell go on without me.
So I have to believe that I will one day rise from my grave and join the world and be an actual human adult some day.
I’m not asking for a lot. A job, a boyfriend, a place of my own. The sorts of things that normal, healthy, decent people take for granted.
It’s that or rot to death in this sepulcher of a “life” and that is just plain not acceptable. I deserve so much more than that and it’s not like people are lining up to rescue me so it’s up to me to git that shit done.
An argument could be made that my dreams of escape are what are hurting me the most as I continually reach out for something I cannot grasp and feel the heartache and frustration all that dreaming causes me.
My brother would tell me to just try to make some kind of life for myself.
Well that’s what I am trying to do. I’m not pining for superstardom, though I would not turn it down. I just want a simple, decent life where I have some dignity and some resources and someone to share a bed and a life with.
Like I wrote in Part 1, the problem is that my fear is still holding me back. But that is going to end some time soon. I am going to keep raising my demons so I can banish them permanently until there is nothing left to hold me back from reaching on out to that big ol world out there and finding some kind of way to be a grownup.
Because this bullshit eternal child genius existence sucks. I am so damned sick of only knowing how to entertain myself and thus letting all my fabulous gifts rot on the vine.
I should be able to rise like a god and shine like a star for all the world to see.
But barring that, a decent job would be nice.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.