I had a great time at Show Me Your Books in Kansas City, I loved seeing everyone! But then my mom fell and broke her hip on Saturday, so I drove home Saturday night to be here for her surgery on Sunday morning. She made it through and is in good spirits. We’ve got some challenges with rehab + continuing chemo, and a lot more questions than answers on what will happen next, but she’s okay right now and that’s all that matters. I have some more things to announce, but first I want to share a story from the upcoming anthology I am in, Just Breathe. This is an anthology to benefit, To Write Love On Her Arms. To Write Love On Her Arms, is a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope & finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self-injury and suicide.
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What is normal because I know I’m certainly not it.
Just stepping outside my front door leaves me wrecked.
My life used to be incomparable too what it is now.
Happiness and love filled my days and nights with joy.
Now it’s just panic, fear and crippling anxiety.
A constant battle to keep GROUNDED.
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Have you ever felt like you’re an outsider looking in on your life? It’s how I feel every day. I have something called anxiety. It’s because of a past traumatic experience—well, that’s what the doctors said anyway. They gave me these little white, round tablets and sent me on a course to learn how to overcome it: something called cognitive behavioral therapy. It was interesting, and I learned a lot, but for me, it was utterly useless. I still have anxiety, and I don’t think it’s ever going to go away. Anxiety isn’t just something you ‘get over’ with a sound night’s sleep, or you can just ‘pull yourself out of’ as people often say to me. It’s ingrained in my mind; in every pore of my body. And, just like now, as I try to take a step out of my front door on what is a particularly bad day, it is completely debilitating.
My knuckles are white as snow as they grip tight to the wooden frame of my doorway. ‘You can do this,’ I tell myself. ‘You’ll be fine. There’s nobody around to see you and laugh at you. Nobody’ll hurt you.’ My heart rate accelerates; I can feel it almost beating out of my chest. Thump, thump, thump. Ouch, it hurts. My palms are sweaty and start slipping on the door frame, which I grip hold of for dear life. This is just crazy. Next, the world begins to spin. I’m dizzy and disorientated. How can I be this weak? How can I be this much of a freak? I force my feet forward, but my legs turn to jelly. They’re barely holding me up. Last of all comes the nausea, I want to vomit. Many times, in the past, I have. Supermarkets, doctors’ offices, even walking down the street when someone has looked in my direction and smiled at me, I’ve opened my mouth and brought up the contents of whatever meal I’ve just eaten. If there’s anything going to bring on more anxiety, it’s people gawking at you while you stand in a pile of your own sick.
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Things are hard right now lovelies, every time I am almost caught up, something else happens. I can only hope my mom can heal without complication and I can get back to writing. I can’t wait to share with you more about this anthology though, stay tuned as I have more coming!
Add to your Goodreads now!
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Want to more about Anna Edwards
Amazon bestselling author, Anna Edwards hails from the rural countryside near London. She previously worked as an accountant, and while she still does a bit of accountancy on occasion, the majority of her time is now spent writing and looking after her family.
An avid reader herself, Anna turned to writing to combat depression and anxiety after her diagnosis in 2015. She loves travel, hunky heroes with dirty mouths, demure but spunky heroines, and dramatic suspense. You will find all four woven into each of her magical stories.
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