The book is almost done. Maybe 2-3 more weeks of intensive work, and then it's off to the agents again (the election of Trump has changed the game, made my novel far more topical).
The only problem is that the rest of my life is on the verge of falling apart. Except it's not really on the verge of falling apart - that characterization is nothing more than my mind catastrophizing, extrapolating from the current crisis to a doomsday scenario that's enormously unlikely. Objectively, I know this to be the case, but that doesn't prevent me from tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep.
I'm paralyzed by fear. Fear of missing out, fear of failure, fear that I've made the wrong life choices, fear that I'm going to live a life of mediocrity, fear of losing someone I care about, fear of caring too much, and caring too little.
Let the fear pass through you. Accept that you are going to die. Accept that your consciousness will be annihilated. Accept the temporal nature of your existence. Stop fighting it. Stop resisting. Let it pass through you. The resistance is what creates the force. Acknowledge to yourself that you care about her. Acknowledge that you may fail, and fail spectacularly. The world around you is a hurricane. Find the eye of the storm. Sit down and close your eyes. Breathe.
people I admire
Bret Easton Ellis