Read This! But Not Really.


I hate it.

There’s nothing I hate more about myself than fearing things. Mainly people.

You know that jittery feeling when you’ve had too much caffeine, or you’re walking down the hallway to your first job interview? Yeah, that feeling. That’s the feeling I have when I meet new people, or I have to speak or stand in front of people, or even when my name is called out loud in a group of people.

My heart sinks into the pit of my gut and I start sweating. My muscles tense up and my heart begins its all-out assault against the inside of my chest.

All eyes are on me. Even when they’re not.

I think when it comes to my art and creating new things, I have that fear of creating something that will garner recognition. What if I create something that people just absolutely love and want to speak to me about it? What if someone wants to interview me?

Just thinking about it, I could curl up into a ball and slide into a cubby-hole.

I fear what people think of me. I fear to speak in front of people. I fear STANDING in front of people….and I fear success.

Wow! I’m lame.

The worst part is, other than knowing that I have some kind of anxiety and not being able to overcome it, is that it keeps me from doing new things that I wanna do; Podcasting, video blogs, etc.

There is a lot of poetry and stories that I’ve written, and want to write, that I’m too scared to share in fear of being criticized by family and friends. I can’t share who I am or what I believe in because I’m too afraid.

Anything I’ve uploaded and shared to Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter has probably been deleted a million times before I finally shared it. Even now, I have online stores where I share my art that I’ve created. Only one person has bought anything, and I’m thinking of just deleting my accounts because apparently nothing is good enough to buy. Apparently, I suck at art.

It’s why I don’t post on this blog very often. Who reads it? Why would they? It has nothing interesting or informative.

But when I know someone has read it, or say that they have or will read it, my heart sinks like an anchor into my gut. Did they, or will they, like it? Would they tell me if they didn’t? Oh God! What if they absolutely hated it? I suck at this!

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come close to trashing all of my art pieces and deleting everything off of my computer. Nothing is good enough.

I’m not good enough.


I don’t know what kind of anxiety it is. I just know it’s anxiety.

And I hate it!

Hopefully, I’ll post this.

I don’t know how much longer I’ll keep up the art thing. More money is being spent with very, very little money coming back. Almost nothing.

I don’t know what it means when all I can think about is creating something…anything. All I want to do is write. I want to draw. I want to paint. That’s ALL I want to do.

But it’s becoming so hard…

Don’t take this as a depressed kind of posts. I’m not depressed. It’s just me thinking about my anxiety. The anxiety of being successful…and the anxiety of stepping off of this path that I’m on. The thought of both stresses me to the point of tears.

I need to start up again on my book Indian Boy; Protector of Shawnee City. I gave myself to the end of the year to finish it. I’m almost done writing book two, but I’m not sure about that one yet.

I think I’m going to finish book one and then decide on the fate of future art projects. It’s getting hard to buy supplies for stuff. I can’t try anything new because I don’t have the money for the supplies.

I think what I need is to start focusing on work and my family. I’m sure I’ll doodle here and there, but I can’t do paintings anymore. I can’t afford the paint or canvas I need.

I don’t know. I say this all the time and end up splurging on art supplies.

Well…thanks for stopping by. Hopefully, there won’t be another post like this one. Felt good to write it though.


Neyiwa! Thank You!


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