I sometimes use work to cope with worry. When I have enough work, my worries disappear. I know the concerns are still there, but the work pushes them into the shadows. I can pretend they don’t exist, I’m fine, nothing’s wrong.
worry
Mountains out of Mole Hills
The problem with perfectionists, albeit not the only one, is that they make mountains out of mole hills. A failure to rise to the occasion. A moment of stupidity. An error that not even an eighteen-year-old rookie writer should or would have made.
Be Still
I know the importance of being still, but I’m no good at it. I try to be, but it’s a struggle. I’m followed by various tracks of questions put on repeat: “What do I do next? What should I be doing? Am I doing the right thing? How do I know if I’m doing the right thing? If I’m not doing the right thing, what should I be doing? What should I be pursuing? What about that person? Did I offend that person? Why is he or she being quiet? What should I do?” The questions aren’t easy ones to answer – they often are impossible to answer – yet the perfectionistic, impatient person I am wants answers right now. The more I think about how I don’t have the answers, the more frustrated and worried I become. I turn into the polar opposite of stillness. I’m on edge, jittery, cranky.
Revisited: Why I Write
I am a worrier. I worry about real things, such as bills and projects and deadlines and health. I worry whether I come across as self-centered or self-pitying. I worry that I am those things. I worry about how not to be those things. I worry a lot.
Quit Worrying and Start Writing
I am a worrier. It’s one of my many flaws. It’s one I’m constantly addressing. It’s one I sometimes escape when I write.