It's been awhile since I've written from down deep. It's been awhile since I've been down deep—the past month or so has been all about floating, existing on the surface, being more in the moment than I generally am. Living with less anxiety.
It's been lovely.
I haven't worried about what's next. There's been no panic about no projects. No drive to make things happen. I've been hype-free. I've been anxiety free and let me tell you, it's an amazing place. I didn't realize, until meds kicked in, that I've been anxious all the time for as long as I can remember. Not having that pit in my stomach, that clenching in my jaw, that dread that at any time the heat would rise in my head, my heart would start pounding and panic would drown me has been freeing.
Only it's back.
It started 2 days ago. Just a feeling of unease and then last night, sitting in the cramped upstairs of a falafel restaurant, I felt panic return like a hard kick in the stomach. I nervously waited for it to take over. It didn't but just worrying that it would plunged me back to a place of darkness.
The crazy thing was that it had been an amazing day. I did a 20 mile bike ride, by myself, something I'd never been brave enough to do before. There were moments, riding up the Hudson, light sparkling on the water, shining through leaves, wind and speed keeping me cool on the bright sunny day I was filled with joy. With happiness. With completeness (that was more on the way there, the way back my legs had moments of struggle). And then I saw a movie by myself, another first. I hadn't planned to but I was blown off at the last moment and there I was. The popcorn was great. The movie was terrific. And I was fine.
So, why the panic?
Could be that after weeks of floating we've got a schedule again and I'm back to running places and time constraints. Could be that after weeks of general mellowness there's full scale complaining and whining going on at my house at the moment. It's hard to take so much negative on. Could be that below feeling fine about not being immersed in a project maybe that's not ok for me—I miss being busy, digging into something, researching, learning, discovering.
I miss my drive. I miss my passion. I miss my edge.
I miss phone calls and interviews and plans.
I miss having a schedule, setting goals, knowing what I want to do.
Only I don't know what I want to do.
It's out there. I have to believe I'm not done yet. I can't have reached my pinnacle and will now only slide downhill. Deep in my heart I know that's not true.
(sort of).
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