This summer has been absolutely insane for me. I finally was able to tan in the beach yesterday and it was the first time this ENTIRE summer that I got to enjoy such luxury. I’ve been prepping for open studios and food market non-stop writing email after email after email after email and freaking out about whether or not I’m doing anything right. I am very easily discouraged and quite sensitive to criticisms and doubts and am frightened to the very core about these projects. I think: What if people don’t attend? What if people don’t give a fuck? What if it can’t be used to further expand and spread interests and passions for food and art throughout Greenpoint? I absolutely fear failure and have been raised to shut down at any point of challenge or confrontation. So it’s been quite difficult the last few weeks to keep my head up and not drown in self-loathing anxiety.
Writing for Gazette for the last few weeks has been really exciting, finally a paid gig, finally a print publication, finally reflecting my neighborhood. BUT, I realized the ease in which I write does not flow freely when there is an editor above my head. The knowledge and possibility of having my work read over and edited is very uninspiring and makes me too self-conscious to write without wasting an entire day on an opening sentence. And the end result ain’t nothin’ steller either. I’m learning more and more how sensitive and insecure I can be within all aspects of my being and I need to GET OVER IT if I’m going to continue anywhere.
It’s been bombarded by uncertainty in the last month: I quit my job, I lost my roommates and was threatened to get kicked out of my place, and the only saving grace to pay any bills is the market which I have NO CLUE if it will work out. I’m completely overwhelmed and overbooked with projects and writing assignments and have neglected some over others. Not to mention friends are left behind, although they’re not in the corner sulking about my absence. I very easily bring myself down convincing myself that I’m not part of some brooklyn food clique or some brooklyn art clique or some brooklyn critic clique. I’m mildly all over the place and that’s quite all right. It’s a tough summer but I do know in the back of my mind that things will miraculously pan out. I receive love and support from enough people to comfort me and know I’m doing something right at least a little bit.
So this is my self-help therapy up-session, reminding myself to shut the fuck up, don’t waste time with detrimental “what if” questions, get over it, move on and, and just GET SHIT DONE.