All I ever wanted was right here
But I had to reach way down inside
I had to have faith I’d find
No Fear

I haven’t written in a while. And I’m scared to try again.

I’m scared I’ve lost the spark, the creativity. My dazzling wit.

But as my mom keeps telling the kiddo, “Feel the fear, and do it anyway.”

Why I haven’t been writing is a whole other story–I lost my grandma last week. She was 96, had been ill, so it wasn’t a total shock. But it has hurt more than I thought. Not sure I’m ready to write much more than that…

But in honor of the family matriarch, who sure as hell didn’t have time for FEAR, I’m going to stick with that idea for today.

In the middle of all of this, I started seeing a therapist. And I like her. She’s full of so many ideas and insights I can barely keep up. Like a college lecture, I feel like I should be recording it and going back to listen again later. Pick up as much wisdom as I can.

The big insight from yesterday was that I am obsessing and stressing about wild daydreams, like owning a farm, so I don’t have to deal with my actual anxiety over what needs to be done NOW.

If I’m researching land, I don’t actually have to clean the house. Or workout. Or cook apparently.

Or even sleep.

Yep. I was up until 1 AM stressing the idea of buying a piece of land outside of town.

It’s insane.

And I can’t seem to break the train of thought.

So goal today… do something for today, don’t just dream about tomorrow.

And I realize when I try to think about today, what it means to be productive today, I do feel a HUGE wave of anxiety wash over me.

There is so much to do I don’t even know where to start. And so much of what is “productive” as a stay-at-home-whatever-I-am, just doesn’t really make a noticeable dent. If I do laundry, no one really knows. It doesn’t change the look of this cluttered house.

So if I start thinking about making this house cleaner, neater, I start to panic because it is a completely daunting task to me. I don’t know where to start, and I know there will be a million moments of not knowing where to put things, where things go, what to get rid of or keep.

And I’d rather just sit here stagnant. It seems safer.

So feel the fear, and do it anyway.

Start somewhere. Pick one tiny task, and do it. Like this guest bed I’m staring at as I write that is covered in clothes. I could hang those up or put them in the laundry.

It’s just cleaning the fucking house, it’s not planning battle.

At least it probably isn’t for most people.

But for me, it is. Battle against myself and my fears and my feeling of being overwhelmed. Battle against anxiety.

Am I alone here? Is anybody else intimidated by an out-of-control house?

But big picture, I don’t want to live my life in fear. Fear of messing up. Fear of being judged. Fear of seeming stupid. Fear of failing–or even just being less than perfect.

Because I see it in my kid. He doesn’t want to do things unless he knows exactly what’s up and what’ll be going on. He wants to be successful and he shuts down when he messes up in public.

I want more than that for him. I want him to feel the fear, and do it anyway.

So I guess I better start walking the walk.