Living on a Prayer

So much of my sense of worth is pinned to the current state of my career, which seems perennially in limbo. If the shape of this thing is supposed to resemble a rollercoaster, I'm due for a great big fucking hill because I've been racing these downward sloping tracks for quite some time.

You write. And you wait. And you write. And you wait.

Sometimes the waiting is a welcome break. Breathing room after you've worked really hard on a draft.

Sometimes the waiting is simply water torture.

My mood has suffered grand fluctuations over the past month. I've definitely done my share of partying. Nothing like booze and friends to help you forget your troubles for a night.

But the troubles don't go away on their own. That looming sense of dread is always there. That Sword of Damocles. And the overriding feeling is that I don't want to see anyone and I don't want anyone to see me. Forget about socializing and dating. That girl I like deserves so much better than I could offer her; she deserves more than me; she deserves more than who I am right now... because I am so much less than I am capable of being...

There. I said it.

Step toward finding some inner peace is admitting these awful thoughts that whirl through my head. If I can get them out of my head, maybe I can begin to let them go. I need to breathe. I need to focus on what's directly in front of me.