35,000 and Counting

35.000 words is quite a lot of words. I’ve been writing almost every day since November 1st to try and complete National Novel Writing month. I am writing about anxiety and mental health. It’s more of memoir, an extended diary if you will. It’s kind of helpful and it’s mainly hard.

Today I cried, thinking over some of the conversations I had way back when it was really bad. Then I wrote this, what I hope will be the Epilogue to my story. I decided I’d share it. Partly because it feels positive; partly because most of the words I write this month will stay hidden; and partly because my blog, which has become a very important part of my life probably feels neglected.



This story has no in ten years time. There is probably, hopefully, a future, but the form it takes is not down to fate or chance. Even though we might get lucky on the way, we can’t count on that, or believe we have no power to shape what comes next. What we – what I  – do now affects any future I may or may not have. It’s just that we don’t know, can’t know, exactly what that future will be. And, rather than worrying about the knowing or the not knowing, instead of agonising about the future, we have to live planted right here, right now.

It would be as foolish and selfish to live like there is no tomorrow as it would be to imagine there is no way we can shape tomorrow;  but the way the now looks, the essence of it, the changes we make today are important; they will help shape the now of tomorrow. Fate and luck might play a hand, but we have the trump card.

However, this story can only continue with time. My story will be as on going as I am. I have to live the best life I can, stay true to my values and perhaps forever battle the beast of anxiety. The beast might rule again, I hope not, but it might. It might come back occasionally, but I know I can beat it because I beat it every time I get out of bed in the morning, every time I check three times not four, every time I shrug and stretch past the intrusions and the worries and take one steady or shaky step forward at a time.

I don’t know where I will be in ten years time. I don’t even know if I will ‘be’ in ten years time. I can’t know, none of us can. However, I do know that any future I may have comes down, mostly, to me. Me – nothing special, but unique all the same, anxious but not Anxiety itself, just trying to be the best I can be.


Blossom & Bloom

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s