quick update, so you know i’m here.

i was in berlin last week. and magdeburg. magdeburg was fun. berlin sucked. flirty, fleshy chested, open-button up shirted men in their 30s drinking beer and saying things to me like, “do you bite?” and then forgetting i’m there and saying to their buds, “you know there’s medicine now that will give you an erection for 3 days straight?”–men who really needed a smackdown. i’ve written up half of the story and got bored. i’m sure it will get posted soon.

i suffered from a disastrous panic attack last week that lasted one day but drizzled into the next days. it’s like when it happens, it makes it so much easier to get another one. does anyone else feel that way?

just so you know, i’ve only had two panic attacks in kiel, and really they weren’t at the peak of a panic attack, just half way up. so i’m doing quite well. yeah, but the last one felt pretty bad but hey! i got through it.

i’ve written TWELVE pages since i told you that i am writing everyday. TWELVE. that’s so good for me. like, i know it’s only been like 8 days, but this is the first time i’ve said “yep, i’m writing a novel,” and i’m like, actually doing it.

i am stuck on a part i don’t feel like writing about, but i just need to write two pages today and once i push through this sticky part, i’ll get to another part that i can work on. it’ll be fun.

i’m on a journey to just… feel. like, i’m so sick of this inner wall i have. i’m breaking it down. i’m going to be myself and feel love and heartbreak and joy and sadness and just take it all in with acceptance that i am human and i love every bit of it all. i do think this idea was partly at fault for my panic attack last week. i know i’m being vague. but i often feel we have to hide so much of our thoughts and feelings and i often don’t want to. i often just want to scream every shitty thing i’ve ever done or every lustful, awful, sad, wonderful things i’ve ever experienced and say “AND I LOVE IT” at the end. the thing is, i’m 20 and i have such a beautiful life. i have so many beautiful things, so many wonderful people that have stepped in at different times, and i love these people and things and moments. i want to acknowledge these things as good and beautiful and a part of me. because they are. and i don’t think we should just hide our faults, our moments of stupidity, our moments of heartbreak, our moments of guilty goodness–we should embrace them because it is what makes us US. moments change us, things change us, people change us, and we should recognize it as the beautiful elements that make up me, Anne, and you, whoever you are.

am i making any sense? i think i’m just blabbering. anyway i guess i’m on a journey to just feel, and be more vulnerable perhaps.

i want to be more honest with myself. writing every day has been doing this for me this past week. it is a beautiful, heart wrenching experience and at the end, i hope i will love myself for being honest and vulnerable and live the rest of my life this way.

sometimes i loathe crazy people. they can do whatever they want. they can scream whenever they want, they can say whatever they want and not care if someone’s going to hold it against them, they can run through a city, take off their clothes and run around, they can do anything because they are labeled Crazy and that’s what crazy people do–things everyone WISHES THEY COULD DO.

i mean, i’m not like sitting here thinking about running naked through cities, but hell if i felt like it i wish i had the courage to do it!

is it selfish to not hold back things though?

hmph.

i’m going to leave it here. you guys can pick through my tangents and improper sentences and see what you think.

4 Comments


  1. sheesh, how many times can i say they word beautiful and wonderful in a post.

    Reply

  2. Sheesh, I love this post and you. Here’s a toast to not holding anything back! Being vulnerable. And writing novels. And kicking anxiety in the nuts. Now go read my blog post. I bought you something.

    Reply

  3. oh mommy you’re online!

    Reply

  4. That is the best thing about writing–it makes you walk through your wall of shame. And when you are on the other side, you think, “well, that wasn’t so bad.”

    Sorry about the panic. Certainly all your relatives know what you’re talking about. You seem to be handling it fine. So it takes a day and half to work through. So what? You’re doing hard things.

    I love you more than sugar.

    Reply

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