1?

"Faster, faster, faster, faster, faster..." a choked litany through gasps of breath and tears. "They're coming, they're coming... faster, faster, faster, faster," Her legs burning with the strain and her chest tight from crying. The girl stops abruptly, head tilted as though listening, the only sound which can be heard in the surrounding desert is that of her harsh, gasping breaths. "Can't stop, they're coming, faster, faster..." she mumbles to herself through the gasps.

Suddenly, she takes off running again... the cold night air sliding over her sweat slick skin, she can't feel it. The fear is overwhelming and all consuming. "Faster...faster..." Her legs pump with the energy only adrenaline and youth can sustain, her arms pumping at her sides as though she'd once been a runner. Her light blonde hair swings against her back, down past her shoulder blades. Her skin is almost unnaturally light, translucent in the starlight.

The stars look down upon the girl with uncaring brightness on this moonless night. The desert, such a cold and unfeeling wilderness, stretches out before her. She collapses to the ground. Her hands scraping against the rocks and dirt. With her cheek lying in the dust and blood dripping into her eyes, she concentrates on breathing. The girl lies there a moment confused and hurt, tears mixing with blood as they run down her face.

Suddenly the stars go dark and the girl screams "NOOOO!"

Silence. The silence stretches out broken only by the hoot of an owl perched upon a saquaro cactus and the sound of a mouse running across the sand. Natural sounds. A cold breeze ruffles the surrounding bushes and a tumbleweed rolls across the earth. The stars shine brightly overhead. Winter in the desert.

Sleeplessness

Fear. I lay awake in bed, unable to calm my mind, thoughts racing and stomach rolling I finally give up on sleep and get out of bed. Nausea slides over me. What am I doing awake? I can't help but wonder what exactly it is that won't let go of me. Demons riding me hard all day, this inability to just relax and let go and yet an unwanted fatigue coupled causes me to take cat naps throughout the day.

I close my eyes and think of nothing. Just calm and quite. Black. I let the quiet fill me... I concentrating of the clicking of my fingers on the keys. For this life I am grateful, for this home... I am grateful. I think of my many blessings and of the things in my life which are most fufilling, the relationships which are beginning and the ones which I have been able to maintain over the years.

The nausea isn't fading. I don't think it's stress. This is day two. That watery mouth which signals the need to run to the bathroom has been a constant. I go... and nothing. False alarm. What the hell am I doing awake? I feel the demons of fear and indecision around me, within me.

Again, I close my eyes. It's only another week. Okay two. Two more weeks of this. Then, no more. Quiet. An unnatural sleep which beckons me. Being awakened every two hours for strolls through the halls of a hospital and the pain. Anxiety strikes.

It consumes me. This fear which I share with none. This uncontrollable, overwhelming fear. Surgery is in two weeks from today. What if? What if I don't come back. What if this time...
STOP! I will not let this consume me. I will not let it control me. Fear does not make my decisions and it does not control me.

The nausea... God please help me... I pray....let this pass... I can only let go.

"This too shall pass" a deep soothing voice echos through my mind.

I know if I can only let go, stop trying to control it all and just let it go that the nausea will quit. The sleeplessness will ease and I will find rest again. If only I could let...go...

Eyes closed. Mind blank. Slow, deep breaths. Slow...deep...breaths...

Sleep.

Exploring the creative side.

I've been thinking a lot about what kind of career I'd like to invest my time and energies into. Turning 25 this past week has made me look at my life and accomplishments or lack thereof a little differently. I love to read as anyone who has ever met me, spoken to me, or been into my house knows well. Finding a way to integrate this love of reading into a career, now that may be a bit trickier.

I haven't attempted writing fiction or anything even similar in years, I write blogs... I complain, contemplate and basically dissect my life on the internet. I have always tried to be as completely and utterly honest as possible with myself when I write, but I've never really written online to entertain. If people found the posts interesting or entertaining that was just a side benefit. Mainly it was a way to put my thoughts into words and someday look back and see how I've changed.

Tonight I was flipping through emails, which as usual led to hopping from site to site... reading. I stumbled across the blog of an author who I enjoy reading on a regular basis. It made me wonder, she's not any different than I am. Just a person who enjoys reading and has found a way to harness that creativity into a career.... maybe I should give it a try???

Then my ego started squirming. What if people hated what I wrote? What if I hated what I wrote? What if I failed completely and utterly. I'm inherently arrogant... I put on this wonderfully humble facade, but I've never failed at anything I've attempted... I've just never had the courage to shoot for the moon. I realized tonight, that I fear failure more than anything, even death. I'd never thought of myself as a coward, I'm the crazy, daring, adventurous friend who is willing to try anything. Yet... I never really put MYSELF on the line... what if?

Here I am. The blog which someday I may allow my friends to see. The blog which I will attempt to use as a sounding board... an arena to attempt to write something... anything... just to put words on paper and see what happens. Fiction, non-fiction... haven't really considered what I'm writing. Anything that comes to mind and flows from my fingertips.

And I let go.