Stress, Strains and sensations

I am stressed at the moment. Work has taken over in a big way and a lot has been and is happening. I have a lot of personal worries too. Things that are weighing on my mind and decisions to be made that are risky. And we all know that risk taking is inherently failure prone, otherwise it would be called sure-thing taking.

There is also his presence to account for. The wonderful, easy going, happiness making presence in my life was what I wished for. My boy crush comes true. But now all I can think is ‘don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up’. I really don’t want to mess this up, but the circumstances are so precarious that I am partially hesitant, partially hopeful. Strangely though, it’s more that I don’t want to mess this up for me. For all of my messed up life I have struggled to find my way to a place where I know what I want for ME. What I want. Not what others want for me. MY decision, MY life.

But I’m weird. I’m not going to be silly enough to deny it. I have quirks and I’m terribly awkward around myself sometimes. I am in one scoop both well put together and a total and utter mess. So I constantly put my foot in my mouth, even when I mean well. I tend to mince my words and give off the wrong impression, which can be confusing and a little bit frightening. In knowing all this about myself, I stress about it. And the more I stress about it, the more likely I am to talk too much and say too little. Thank goodness that the opposite rings just as true. The more I relax, the easier it is for me to let the cool, calm and collected me reign over the screaming mess of misfits that run around in my mind.

I don’t mind the misfits. We have become quite accustomed to one another and live well together in our strange symbiotic state. Yet in getting to know me, as that is what we are doing, it means I have to be honest, and I have to be me. I would not want to be some character that I cannot sustain or that does not exist. So I am being me, flagrantly and unapologetically. It stresses me out, however, and then the misfits come out to play.

The point? The point is that it’s who I am. In time (the catch phrase, as it were) the misfits will settle and calm the fuck down. Right now they’re a little like a dog after you come home from a long vacation. They are going absolutely mental. I’m no good at this. I’m good at the middle parts and at the end, but I’ve never been quite so smooth when something starts. I find it strange and do not always handle situations with my usual finesse. I have come to realise that this in turn causes some strain… All I ask is that you bear with me and my jolly band of misfits for a while. I promise you, the sensational me that does come after all this will make you happy. Very much so, in fact. So give it time, get to know me slowly and steadily, give the stress time to subside, and who knows… I may just surprise the hell out of you and be precisely the girl you hope I am…

 

 

 

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