crippling self-doubt

Yesterday I posted a chapter (admittedly everything there is) of a thing I called Upside Down. I wrote those words late, and I was quite tired by then. I am sure there are a couple of mistakes and errors in there… But as a faithful reader, you are aware that every post has at least one typo. Be it as it may… I am not sure how to proceed and if anyone who follows this blog wants to read things like that. My overthinking and self-doubting self is a bother again. I am not expecting an answer because in the end I will do whatever seems right to me and comes naturally. If you say yes, I pressure myself too much. If you say no, I doubt myself and my capacities as a writer. You can’t win. I cannot either.

I am a tired woman wearing bright green pants (with huge white flowers – hideous pants) who is seriously considering giving Milly Baker and Josh Weller a backstory and making their characters come alive. The last names were a spur of the moment thing.

Thanks for letting me vomit my self-doubt on your screen. I could go on and on about it… But who wants to read that?! And I don’t want to write it.

Thank you for your time.

Cathy

Growing older…

Just the way we all do, I am growing older and older. Am I becoming wiser? I am not sure. I am becoming more me though. If my depression taught me something, it is that I am okay the way I am. I am far from being perfect. I am not the most intelligent, the most interesting, the most beautiful woman on Earth, but I am unique and I am me.

My emotions take a strong hold on me. Too strong. I love too deeply. I don’t regret and I don’t hate.

Everyone looking at me sees someone different.

Today, I am 35,5 years old and holding on. I am breathing. I am existing. I am me.