ImageI’ve been avoiding this for a really long time. In fact, as I’m typing this, I half expect to take a quick “bathroom break” and come back to my comfy bed only to “forget” that I started a blog and watch Family Guy until I fall asleep. I’m a professional avoider. Maybe I’ll just stop here and get on this tomorrow. That’s my favorite. “I’ll get right on that tomorrow.” I think I say that to my mother on the phone daily.

The thing is, I never really get to tomorrow. By the time it’s tomorrow, it’s right now. It seems like such a simple concept to grasp, yet I have managed to live in this state of avoidance for the better part of my life. And the excuses that support the procrastination are truly genius. I’ll start eating better next week because this is birthday week, and although my family has spent every day of my life celebrating my being, we’re gonna set aside a whole week to do that with cake and pizza and wine. I’ll get my wisdom teeth taken out later because I just don’t know that I can afford to lay around for a couple of days after, even though I’m currently doing an excellent job at that. I’ll do my laundry tomorrow so that I can wash what I’m wearing right now, as if I’m going to be naked all day tomorrow as to not dirty any clothes! Or my personal favorite: I’ll snap out of this depression where I close my blinds and watch Netflix all day tomorrow because today is my off day and I deserve to be lazy. And tomorrow it’s: I’ll snap out of this depression where I close my blinds and watch Netflix all day tomorrow because I work later today and I deserve to be lazy before I go to work, right? 

It is literally a never-ending cycle. Making this blog has been no different. I’ve put it off thinking that it’s just not the right time. But to be honest, I’m not sure that there’s ever going to be a good time because I’m afraid. Of everything. Of this trivial little blog, of what people will think of what I have to say, of my passion, of pursuing my dreams, of people. I’m afraid. Period. I’m not sure that I’m ever going to get over my fear of everything. I keep thinking that when I lose ten pounds, or I get out of this funk, or my life starts looking more like what I think other people want it to look like, I can begin doing the things that make me feel alive. It’s easier to be numb. As an artist, sometimes it’s easier to avoid the feelings that come with creativity because it can take you to places you don’t think you’re ready to go. I just. keep. waiting. And losing myself in Orange is the New Black, because it’s easier to lose yourself in fiction than it is to find yourself in places you don’t want to be.

So maybe there’s never really a good time. Maybe I’m not supposed to “get over it.” Maybe I’m supposed to go ahead and start doing the things that make me happy– like writing. I’ve spent months emailing my mom my would-be blog posts that come pouring out of my mind on a regular basis because there just isn’t room for those thoughts in my brain anymore. So here I am, partaking in the best kind of free, modern American therapy: the blog.

There’s never really a good time, but I’m choosing now.

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