“I have a sort of waking nightmare: to get this thing just about completed, and the last day to discover one little part that doesn’t quite fit with the adjacent part.”

I certainly and deliberately introduced a great deal of variety into the people in the clamshell, which I suppose grows out of growing up in an individualistic society we profess to have.

But I didn’t think about this beforehand. I just went ahead and did it, and that’s the way it turned out. So I guess there are lots of paradoxes which I’ll leave for other people to unscramble.

I’ve spent most of my life not understanding that my anxiety was causing a downward spiral, self-medicating, and self-sabotage.

Choosing to live with less stuff is choosing to live with less stress and less anxiety.  

My anxious self always melted in your arms, then. Now your grin from another screen telling me “its going to be okay” works just the same.

Anxiety is way louder than it sounds, I want to speak but i am short of breath.

Thoughts are just visitors passing through our minds, sometimes they stay awhile uninvited- anxiety.

Anxiety is so comfortable that people are more willing to live with it rather than willing to heal from it.

Moon, stars, and night sky. That’s how I kill my anxiousness.

I’ve always had a fear of endings, but it comes as relief to me that among all the dying things, I am one too.