The inner workings of a troubled mind.

Pride and insecurities. Another one of those days.

I finished my first New Horizons course this semester.   Yes I passed with an A. I am very proud I stuck with it. I worked hard, and pushed through all my insecurities. They didn't disappear, I think they are hiding at the moment. I am sure they will pop up when I am writing something I think is good. They love to sneak up when I am in the zone and remind me that I am not that good of a writer.

"That's ok. I already know that." I tell them. (I don't consider this talking to myself. Just thinking out loud.)

Please leave now if you think this is going to get better. It isn't.

I read somewhere that writers struggle with this all the time. That this insecurity is faced by the best authors. I am working on eliminating this out of my life. I haven't read a book on how to do this. Well there is one book, but it was so boring I couldn't finish it. See what I mean. This is why I am happy I finished the course.  I have so many unfinished things that I have accumulated over the years.
I blame it on my mother. Growing up was a constant struggle to get anything accomplished.
My mother is a paranoid maniac. She was and still is; but not as much now, scared of the world. That really sucked for me when I joined the volleyball team and had an away game, or school field trips, or anything resulting in my leaving home and experiencing the world. Living with such a person was hell. I got through it. I found ways to live my life and keep her fear and way over the top outbursts at bay. I was not always successful, those are the worst memories.  If I tell you some of the things I had to do, you would probably think I am a terrible person and never write to me again. So lets just say I did what I had to do to ensure I am a productive part of society. I graduated high school, attended college while working my entire life. Everything else is a big huge pile of interesting, fun, crazy, and shitty things in which I will write about.  So if you have made it this far and think "She should give it up. Throw in the towel or pencil or laptop, get off this site and never return.", Please read my poetry. It is much better than my rambling nonsensical blogging. I worked hard in Karen's class and I think they are good for a beginners attempt at a foreign art form.  They are a tiny window into my mind.
When I figure out how to open the door, I'll let you know.
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