‘Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.’
I woke up this morning after only three and a half hours of sleep and more or less freaking out. Actually, in retrospect, it was probably about as close to a panic attack as I get. My head was swimming with fear, and for a little while I gave into it and was overwhelmed. I let the minutiae of every worst case scenario break over me, and I was literally sick to my stomach with dread.
I think I’m truly so tired and depleted from the last couple weeks that I didn’t have any reserves left. Although I’ve been through some awful stuff – TWO stalkings (one by a paroled rapist and the other by a certifiable psychopath); building a 2300-square foot log home with one other person in Nowheresville, Idaho; detoxing a meth addict so that he could be a bone marrow donor for his brother; etc. – this has been one hell of a couple weeks for my soft, creamy nougat soul. From Pixie’s drawn-out illness and death, to the extreme work drama, to some undeniable fear around my (zero) income situation and related finances, I should probably be impressed that I remember my own name.
In reflecting on this morning, everything I’ve learned and everything I know about making courageous choices and pursuing my dreams went out the window. For the first few hours, I was so overwhelmed that I went totally numb. I’ve been wearing a rubber band on my wrist the last few weeks to increase my mindfulness of my thoughts, and I had to snap myself no less than 30 times
However, and thankfully, the cloud moved on. I’m better now. I’m unwinding and decompressing, and I’m once again optimistic and even enthusiastic about my choices. Behold the power of the “bounce.” I never cease to be amazed at the human psyche’s ability to pick itself up and dust itself off. May a little sunlight break through the clouds in your world today, in just the way you need it!