Hiding from New

I slept to avoid things. Like my own unfulfilled desires. To change. Lose weight. Sit down, and write. Avoidance was a habit, long practiced. A defense mechanism ratcheting up like a medieval drawbridge whenever New loomed on the horizon. I'd peer at New, perched nobly atop the nearest hill, ready to welcome in more opportunities, money, relationships, experiences . . . to infuse my life with more of what I'd asked for. And then I'd start cursing myself, by thinking. Retreating to the dungeon trolled by What If's and SelfDoubt, letting myself wander into mold-caked crevices of bad outcomes. I'd get stuck there. Negative potentials on a repeat track, spinning into angst. It's a lot of work. R

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