Friday, 21 June 2013

Stressed Thoughts

I am taking another break, after 2 painkillers for a headache and a bit of a break down...I hate crying, I think it's weak and pointless and I rarely do it, not since I were sixteen disregarding the weeks of mourning for the Keyholder some several months ago. I have been having nightmares, I've chewed my nails to pieces, and now I've had a little cry. :-( all signs of pre-exam stress for me. This time its different of course, my academic career, my future is now held in the balance on the outcome of this exam. At the moment I'm getting aches that feel a lot like period pain but I'm not due for another week. Maybe that's stress too.

Today the packaging was delivered for my charity tea party, cake boxes etc. It gave me a real glow and sense of self worth. When I'm doing charity things I feel a genuine feeling of being in the right place, doing the right thing. If I were rich, after having a few years fun and establishing myself in the world, I would dedicate my life to charity events, and doing good. I like having a goal that's making a difference, I like feeling as if I am worth something to someone no matter how obscure or small. But I'm not rich, I'm poor. Lower working class poor. University was my chance to better myself, and it's slipping away.

There's one thing I've known all my life, I can't remember exactly when I learnt to write, but I know that as far back as I can go, I've loved writing stories. I grew to enjoy articles and poetry too. I have always known that writing and publishing was in my soul. I finally settled on an idea that turned into a story that became a series I am book, my Grace...that is everything. I have considered, hoped, prayed, dreamed of seeing this story published, and of course I've considered the possibility of never being published. It's a thought I've shunned away, because that is what would truly be the end of me.

If I fail on Tuesday, all I will have left is my book, and my faith. I will push and I will fight and if after going to hell and back I am turned away, if my book is regarded as plain and pointless as I may appear when I stand alone, then that will be the true failure. That would be the end of me as I know myself.

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