Since the pandemic started, my tolerance for stupid bullshit has waned considerably.
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As the goddess and I continue to move through episodes of anxiety, one thing is becoming increasingly noticeable; in and of itself, anxiety is ridiculous. Now, to be clear, anxiety is not ridiculous because of those non-empathetic types who sound like old people when they say how they "don’t understand what there is to be anxious about because it’s not like we’re living through medieval times," or whatever.
Anxiety is ridiculous because of the thought processes the brain puts the mind through. But in order to fully illustrate this absurdity, I need to share an example to illustrate the dynamic between the brain, the mind and us.
Read MoreI realized it seems kinda silly that so many only see so little of all the projects, thoughts and ideas going on inside my mind. How is anyone supposed to get excited about what I'm working on when I'm simply waiting to share all my ideas in finished form? Here's a good example; I've been telling a bunch of friends about a few short stories I'm working on, and the majority of their responses have been something along the lines of curious interest. But when they inevitably ask "when can I read some of these stories?" all I've been able to respond with is, "Well, I'm workin' on it."
I hope to change this. I need to change this.
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There’s a good reason why I don’t tell many people, not even co-workers or the parents of the Goddess the date in which my birthday falls. It’s not that I don’t enjoy birthdays anymore, it’s just, in many ways perhaps I’ve outgrown the trappings of what birthdays used to mean.
But in order to learn what birthdays meant and what they mean for me now, you will need to read the full article on Medium, which can be found by clicking here, on the image or title above.
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