I do everything to do it, prepare and pump myself up, then instead, I do everything BUT DO IT! The frustration with myself eventually led me here, out of journal, seething.

One might wonder: What is IT?

Often logical like making and keeping medical appointments, shopping, and paying bills, those things now relative to PTSD that evoke emotions of pain, struggle, and loss I’ve endured.

Other ways I find myself paralyzed, though similar in the ‘why’ my fear is so great to be hurt, are more irrational, like what I’m currently dealing with…

Long story long, I asked him a question about his writing, and I’m scared to go back to see the reply…

OR the lack thereof…I guess therein is my problem. He’s been so kind in the past, I fear he’ll tire of my interest.

I love my bubble 🫧 At this point in my life, the shell of me that’s left after 50 years is a bubble.

Too much fucking baggage, right??? YES!!!

I know.

So, what now…