I'm wondering if I'm either priming myself for an unneeded panic attack or am just having bits of paranoia. Probably a little bit of both. Lately, I've had this feeling like I'm going to have something happen to me. Or maybe I've just fallen asleep too many nights with the 48 Hours Mystery playing in the background. Or maybe i'm finally coming to terms with the fact that I'm at an age now where dying would be sad, but not necessarily shocking. I mean people die in their 30s all the time. It's sad, but not unheard of. No one has quite as drastic a reaction when someone in their 30s gets cancer as when it's someone in their 20s. It's just how it works.
I think it's just that I'm starting to get healthy (again) and perhaps that's brought some of this to the forefront. I'm eating fairly well, getting veggies and fruits in, sleeping well and without medical aid, my psoriasis is starting to clear up nicely and I've started feeling relaxed in most ways. So of course, my skeptical nature says something must be looming.
Instead of running from the dread, I've decided this time to use it as motivation. When the feeling comes over me (and it does in minor spurts), I use it to say "Well, if I did actually die today what would I be most sad about not having done." And lately the answer has been "finishing the novel or any collection of work." So, I've started writing on the novel more and am trying to get some short stories polished so I can throw them out into the world. I'd like to see how many times they could get rejected before I say "Whatever" and just start posting them on the blog. I'm saying 12 is the over / under number. Bets anyone?
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