Friday, July 27, 2018

Broken Things

I have really beautiful shades in my windows. They are purple. I'm not sure what the material is but it looks like linen. They're made of thick honeycombs so they block light and sound. They are motorized. I can move them up and down with any smart devise, which is fun. It's also new technology and is buggy as hell. I had three different sets originally because of a known bug. One of them was eating batteries so, currently, they are all in the shop getting new motors. Which means I haven't had shades for three days.  It also means that the nest is all torn up because the things that are usually in front of the windows are moved away from them and it doesn't make sense to move them back right away. I didn't think it would take this long.
Two weeks ago the lift chair I use to get in and out of the pool broke as I was getting out. Two of the bolts were rusted out. I don't know why it's taking this long to fix it but I am not swimming. Swimming is good for me in so many ways. Physically, emotionally. It gets me out of the nest. Not being able to swim is miserable. The only reason I haven't been on the floor weeping is because I've been working on the book.
I enjoyed the work. I really like a lot of things about the book. I finished yesterday. Time to figure out self publishing.
And then.
Last night.
I had a full blown panic attack.
I can't even detail the things that were biting at me because they were so global and off the rail. I'd talk myself off the ledge and be on the edge of it moments later. Several times I decided I wasn't going to publish the book. I mean I was ... freaking ...out.
This morning two friends asked where they could buy the book. I calmed down a little bit.
I think not swimming and having the nest be all torn up are destabilizing factors. But who knows. Maybe I would have freaked out no matter what.
So today I am looking into self publishing. After I do as many things as I can to avoid it.
I just need a bunch of people to come here and pat me until I get this done.


Cheryl Czekala said...

Here is a pat from San Francisco! (When I am panicking in the wee hours, I like to repeat St. Julian of Norwich's blessing to myself and breathe slowly: All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well. It's not necessary to believe it, it's the praying and the breathing breaking the vicious streak of panic.)

Tish said...

Good advice!

Roosevelt Hal said...

Pat pat pat...