Anxiety distorts your thinking.
As in, more so than the normal, self-doubting, critical stuff that occurs to writers. With anxiety, you become obsessed with the negative ‘what-ifs’ and try to either control it (adding more stress) or disassociate (coping and defence mechanisms).
For the last few days, I’ve been disassociating (very mildly); using coping mechanisms to avoid my life and allowing defence mechanisms to keep me away from the computer. Huddling in my hermit mode and avoiding everything. My head was full of the anxiety at even the merest thought of writing.
I find it hard to get out of this cycle, because it’s hard to realize you’re in it till you’ve already spent a few days hiding. I know that sounds strange if you don’t have an anxious brain.
Last night I finally started trying to write again. It was all crap*, but it was probably good to write anyway.
And then I heard that David Bowie had died. Very sad, I loved the fun of his early stuff, and his genderbending. I wish more people would be allowed to dress however they wanted, without others complaining or lashing out in fear. And it reminded me that just because I’m weird doesn’t mean I can’t live my life on my own terms.
Anyway, the one good moment of the weekend; I kept my promise and went to see the new Star Wars movie. It was good! My favourite character is Finn, though I really liked Rey too. And, to avoid spoilers, the newest generation of Skywalker is just as whiny as ever. Why must they be so whiny? Why?
*The scene isn’t right, and doesn’t go in the direction I want, but at least I know what I don’t want.