Follow the Fear

 New places are scary. Sometimes exciting scary, but most of the time just scary. Luckily they don't stay new for long. But the fear hangs out for awhile. Long enough for you to really know its there and not just pass it off as too much caffeine. I'm chasing a metaphor here so I'll stop. What's really happening, right now, I'm at a bar, getting ready to do an open mic and bust out some stand up material. And I'm incredibly nervous. Like, ruhl nervous. I have a while till I go on or till it starts so I'm sitting alone, trying to look busy on my phone. I don't have an issue being by myself, but I'm afraid if I put down my phone, I'll focus on my heart beating out of my chest and run away.

I don't get nervous about a lot of stuff. I'd say the only things I get so anxious about that I just want to end everything and go to bed are running long distance races and stand up. Those are the only instances that I feel the pure fear deep in my stomach and then all the way up into my chest and arms and cheeks and sometimes legs. And it's because they are the only things I do where the end result is all on me. Of course there are coaches and mentors and trainers that can help with the success. But whether I succeed or fail, the only one to blame or congratulate is Erin. This girl. Me.  

Guh. I don't know if this is making me feel better or worse. Hopefully this Blue Moon calms the nerves at least a bit. It's good for me. Because it comes with an Orange slice. I'm also taking comfort in the other comedy loners roaming aimlessly around the bar. I bet they wish they had a blog to update and distract them.

I don't consider myself an adrenaline junkie. I don't participate in extreme sports or high risk behaviors. I wouldn't even know how to spell adrenaline without spell check. But I guess maybe I am a little bit? Is that what this would be labeled as? I just think that putting myself through all the mind games and sweats and twitching makes the end result so much more gratifying. Because as soon as I start running or step onto the stage and grab the mic, I'm comfortable. I love it. I remember why I'm here. That's when the scary stops being scary and becomes true love.

Maybe instead of adrenaline junkie, I'll go with passionate. I like that better. Because that means I understand that it takes a little fear and sweat and wanting to quit but persevering through all that in order to make something good. Something that wouldn't even exist without that. Because if all the stages of nerves didn't happen first, what's the point?

Ahh. There we go. Now I feel better. I, of course, had no intention of quitting and going home, I came to be funny and funny I will be. But now at least my hands have stopped shaking, still clammy, but less paulsy-like . I'm going to find a seat, go over my material and feel good about getting out of my comfort zone and bringing myself here. Good work, Clax.