Sunday morning, I wake up too early, like an anxiety alarm clock or a car alarm going off. a jolt and the thought: oh crap! I'm awake.
i am still fretting about the gig on tues which makes no sense to fret about: a shyte pub in run down part of London, 12 other comedians, mostly new acts and not very good, whereas i have been doing this for 8 years and have the benefit of knowing I can storm this but even so i sit here in near physical pain and churning stomach with a fantasy of what can go wrong! Time slows down to a near crawl.
most of my colleagues are in edinburgh at the Fringe festival vying for the #1 spot of new act of the year in the hope of being the next top TV comedian, and reading their vain bragging about how successful their shows are on facecrook status fills me with resentment, rage and sadness. and in my anxiousness i am certain they feel the same about me, even though the truth is (as some aquaintences keep telling me) "they aren't even thinking about you, only themselves"
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it doesnt make the pain and anxiety any less.
thanks for letting me vent.