Anxiety Today

I did not sleep well. I have anxiety problems. Fucking holidays.

I get so upset, it's not funny. Do you honestly think I like writing about this poison strangling my soul?
I get super-sensitive when I feel anxiety.

It just is so hard.

Enough.

I could talk about astronomy, my stories, the fact that I have an issue with my underwear.

Or things I want to do, go to a beach this year. Do I look good in my Speedo? Eh, not like I used to.

Anxiety helps me in that one way. So you went to a nudist colony, male reaction would be you know. I'd feel anxiety which retracts everything.

It stays retracted a lot more than it used to because my prostate still hurts all the time. That never went away. In some ways, it is worse.

So to hell with a holiday and the fake cheer they bring. How is a date on the calendar a holiday? We could live on a planet like some of those extrasolar ones who zip around their parent star in hours. How would a year be measured then?

Time is a perception. The reality is entropy.

I'm no physicist. I took biology classes to help my writing. The further I get from that, the less creative I have become. I do have resolutions, one is to always learn more. Another is to restore my T levels and feel good again. The biggest one of all, is to get help for my anxiety.

It's going to kill me if left untreated. I worry about this a lot.

Why do you read this? What do you care? You, as other people, are part of the problem