Overthinking

Sitting here looking at this big bag of craft materials I wonder if its worth it to continue. Afraid to have it all blow up in my face not only financially but mentally can my brain stay focused long enough for this to actually all work out. I don’t usually think that way. Thinking things will all work out is the last thing I think when things finally fall into place in front of my eyes. That test in college I thought I bombed as I look at the B written on my paper. My first wallet I made out of Duct Tape that didn’t look like it was put together by a kid let alone me thinking a kid could do a better job than this. The high levels of anxiety and self doubt and loathing that live in my brain make me feel like a constant failure. Me trying to see if this whole website thing works out with the eventual possibility that I will be able to sell my items has been a very, very, very long road. This September I will be turning 30 years old and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. Being in teaching for the last five years has only taught me that I don’t think I want to be a teacher anymore. Day care centers burned me to the point that I even told my fifth grade teacher, the first person I ever told that wanted to be a teacher, that I feel like I’m broken and I don’t know how I am going to pick up the pieces. Still living with my parents who I love most of the time mostly for letting me still stay here rent free has been one way I’m coping with life financially at the moment. Personally is a completely differnent  can of worms. Still living in one’s childhood bedroom is not what one wants to be doing by the age of thirty. You want to be grounded as an adult with a career and a family or at least a social life that doesn’t revolve around your parents and dog. Having two best friends you never see can put a pause on your social life. Especially when your anxiety and depression are too high for you to even leave the house on days when you don’t have to go to work. Work is another story. Working as a Hostess at a restaurant can be boring. Sure it’s ‘social’ but it’s all absolutely completely 100% fake. I am friendly with my coworkers for the most part but at home I call them coworkers and not friends. The people that come in I pretty much just go through scripted motions with such fake emotions that it is painful most every day. When I come home from smiling so much that my face feels numb and my feet hurt so much that taking my shoes off hurts more than leaving my work shoes on sometimes I like to sit at the kitchen table and decide what colors work together to make wallets and purses for myself right now but hopefully soon for others. I have another blog on Blogger that doesn’t get much if any traffic but I hope someone will see me here so I have just a little hope that I am not completely invisible.