Normalcy and Something Else

I run my life by routine, mostly. Alarm goes off at 6:30am, I judge my back and see if I have the pain tolerance to walk the dogs. I'm up and moving around by 7:45am if I haven't walked dogs. I make plans in my head of things I'm going to do, and for the most part I follow through. I've never wondered if I needed someone with the same kind of routine-setting, but now...

Plans, order, routine, follow-through... It's a flow I follow. It helps keep my stress and my moodswings/depression manageable. And when someone I care about disrupts this flow, I start second-guessing myself. I lose self-confidence. Everything I do deserves an apology, because everything I do is uncertain and probably destined for failure.

I feel like I've been stripped of every muse I ever had, and every stroke of genius I've had up til now was either dumb luck or... no, just dumb luck. I can't write; who the hell do I think I am, dreaming about making it as a published author? I have trouble finishing stories, and I have a ton of ideas I'll probably bury under more WIP ideas before I even dream about taking one and running with it.

I want to write adult scenes, but my own experience is lame and inexperienced at best. Someone once told me that "cybering is good practice for the real thing." I was young; I believed that. I was almost 20 before I quit that particular behavior, and less than a year later I'd have my first experience. And I fucking sucked.

And I still suck, even today.

You know what kind of a letdown it is for your partner to tell you they're bored? And then top that with this chicken-shit atitude that I just can't seem to get past that prevents me from trying anything new because I'm afraid to fuck up. What is there to fuck up?!

The fear is debilitating; it's there in everything I try to do. I can't even send a text to someone unless I've gone over every little detail in it to make sure there's no possible way to upset the receiver. Except that I fail in that a lot too. I can't fill out a simple job application because, among other things, I'm afraid I'm going to do something wrong on it and it'll be thrown in the trash first thing.

It's something in my head. There's something wrong with me, and I need help before I get so afraid I can't live anymore...