I have the chance to do a great amount of writing this weekend. I am starting to get sick. I feel nauseous. I have a headache. My stomach is in a knot. I am so afraid to do this great amount of writing. I am so afraid. I have to figure out why so here it goes.
The crazy of it is, I have no idea what I am afraid of. I feel the way I have felt whenever something I really want to accomplish is out there waiting for me to do it. When I was on the swimteam, I had to relieve my bladder right before it was my heat. I guess that is it. I am just nervous because I know I can do it and what if I can? Then what? It might change my life. That is scary. I think I am afraid to succeed at this. I am afraid of being a good writer. Why? This feels like therapy. If I am a good writer and my book is a success, then I will stand out. Am I afraid to stand out? Maybe so. Why? I feel like I do not deserve it. There are people who are much better people than me. Who am I to be so conceited to think I can write a book for others to see what is in my mind? Do I think my mind is better than theirs? Maybe theirs is better than mine. Maybe they should write. But they don’t. Someone has to write this. Only I can write this because it is mine and nobody else can write this. It is unique and it is in my heart and soul. It wants to share itself with the world. I cannot stop it from doing that. I must let it be heard. This is like trapping a wild bald eagle and not letting her out to soar. That is not right. I cannot trap a majestic eagle. I cannot trap these ideas in my brain. But yet here with me the eagle is safe. What if she gets hurt out there?
I have to give her a chance.