Today’s Writing Prompt at Fadra’s place: What feels overwhelming to you right now and how are you coping?
I’m overwhelmed that the twins are out of school and I’ve lost control over them lately. It’s two against one and I’m flailing about in a lifeboat. I repeat myself endlessly. There must be a lot of ear wax or selective hearing going on. I can’t believe they’re done with kindergarten. A long summer stretches out before us.
I’m overwhelmed because of this thing with The Moth. Have you voted for me yet? I want it so badly, yet the thought of it simultaneously terrifies me (which tells me it’s THE thing I must do). This is my calling–the writing, storytelling, sharing my life and what I’ve gone through with others who may be lost–but there’s a lot hanging in the balance. I’m meant to do this. My feet are supposed to be on that stage. My lips are supposed to hover near that microphone, my voice is supposed to ring out into an audience. I yearn to be heard in a way I’ve never been before. While it’s natural to be nervous, there’s the fear it might not come to fruition. It’s overwhelming right now. Plus there’s the waiting part. The building of anxiety. Knowing it’s both out of my hands and IN MY HANDS at the same time.
I’m overwhelmed because I’ve made myself vulnerable; with The Moth, with Precipice, and with my BlogHer VOTY. What is it about these things that gives me ants in my pants?
I’m overwhelmed by this depression that jumped in and threw its gnarled hands round my neck.
I’m overwhelmed by the sense that I’m wasting time. I do something, I put myself out there, and then wait. And wait. And then nothing, or wait some more.
I’m overwhelmed by everything but I’m not a fucking little mouse. Inside I’m a roaring lioness. Who dares to dream big things. Who’s been silent and/or silenced for so long.
Not anymore.
It’s gonna happen, this Moth thing. I have to believe that it will happen. I have to believe in ME.
My overwhelmed ass is gonna be up on a stage somewhere, sometime. I know my story is interesting and worth hearing.
Wait, no. Fuck that.
I AM A WRITER.
I AM INTERESTING.
I AM WORTH HEARING.




