Trying to let go

It's somewhat irrational to write on a blog about how I feel; especially when no one reads it. That's probably the comfort of it all, this small space on the net that can retain all my manifesting thoughts. Eitherway, I've come back to this place again to dwell, think and overcome. There is a deep need inside of myself to overcome the strange, distorting and emotional roots of anxiety. As much as I've tried to convince myself over the past year, it seems the fear has not abeited. I'm reaching a point of frustration and that 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude to the whole panic thing.

Seriously, when will they go?

As stupid as it is to assume my fears can somehow drift away like pollen in the spring, it's still not unreasonable. Why can't there be an antihistamnine to soothe the irritation of fear? With all the advances in medical science, it would be just to presume this would all go away...

I don't quite know if it's the anticipation of starting university and the realisation that my life is finally moving into one secure path. I'm not afraid of the journey but rather the brief and distressing disruptions in between. All I want to do is pull over, take a deep breath and take in the view. The though processes behind this are all out of whack - I mean, how and why do I keep awaiting something negative to take place? I just want to be as I am, as I was and as I will be.

I'm too lazy and maybe PMS has something to do with it. I want results but without any real effort. I'm too afraid to admit to myself that something terrifying WON'T happen. The contionous cycle of negative thoughts are excaberating themselves into some real, tangible existance - panic.

I need to stop being so dependent on 'safe' objects, people, places and stop being so unhinged about the world that bustles around under me. I want to travel again, love, laugh and FEEL as though I'm enjoying myself as oppossed to merely existing. I've been leading more of an existance the last few months but I know it's foolish to assume it's a real substitute for life. Distinguishing between self and reality is commendable as an intellectual venture, but not when reality has become fiction unto itself.

I'm just done exposing myself to uncomfortable situations for short periods of time and believing that has cured me of the original ailment. Fear breeds fear and so far my plaster-over-it approach doesn't seem to helping much. It's time for a real life change that I can fully commit myself to. Persistance.

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