Today, my five-year-old little girl asked, "Momma, you wrote two whole books, right?"
She tucked her little arm under mine, pulling it to her chest. Her gaze met mine as she waited patiently for my response. Smiling down at her, I responded, "Yes, baby. Momma wrote two books, and now she's working on her third."
She sat for a minute, and I could tell there was more she wanted to say. It was my turn to wait, but after a few minutes, she still hadn't said a word.
Suddenly, she held her hand up...
Today I published my second book. Everyone keeps saying congratulations, as if this moment should be filled with something other than dread.
My thoughts are getting jumbled; I'm excited, proud, anxious, and incredibly nervous. That's what it's like living with AVPD. I wrote this fantastic book, and I can't enjoy it, because I'm worried it isn't good enough.
I want to go out and celebrate, but I'll probably sit at home instead, hitting refresh a million times on my laptop. I'll watch the icon...