a new day

Uncertainty is an odd thing, ladies and gentlemen.

I don’t deal well with not knowing things. Not in a ‘I need to be the smartest person in the room’ way, but in the, ‘OMG they’re looking at me, what are they thinking’ way and the ‘Oh shit – I have the short memory of a goldfish and I totally spaced and I hope I did this right so I need to check’ way. It creeps in in the ‘I hope they’re not mad at me, I should just ask and check’ way. And the ‘I know they said they’re not mad, but I should check again… you know, just to be sure’ ways.

Not knowing if I did something right or wrong kills me. It eats me up inside and just makes all the bells and whistles ring until the anxiety works itself into a frenzy… which it loves and I hate. Think of it this way, you know when you get a really shitty techno song stuck in your head and all you want to do is make it go away – that’s anxiety’s favorite song, and they turn it up on the biggest speakers they could get at Best Buy and boost the sub woofers until all you can feel is the titter of the high hat and that annoying whoooooomp in your teeth.

Uncertainty makes me second guess everything. It makes me doubt things about myself that I know are true. I mean, come on, we all know I’m funny. Yet the uncertainty makes me think things like -well, *I* think I’m funny… so that way when no one laughs at a joke, it’s because I thought something else. Or the uncertainty lets me not talk to someone because why would they want to be my friend, we we all know that I’m a fucking bad ass friend. And the uncertainty does things like ask me why I’m doing things like even bother writing this… because no one’s going to read it, and if they do read it, it’s all shitty anyway. Which is a lie- because if there is one thing I know I can do well (and lbvs, there are a lot of things I do well from make banana pudding to giving advice to just listening when someone needs to talk) and that’s write and tell a good story.

Which is how I know you’re all reading. And laughing (with me and not at me. Because I’m funny, not a laughing stock). And even if you’re not – that’s okay.

But that’s an entry for another day.


Published by Martii

sometimes wordy, often intermittent. insight into my day to day.

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