There is a reoccurring theme of my life is a violent return to balance from imbalance. Just like a collapse of a society or a forest fire, an unsettled, anxious wave pulses through my veins during the times when I have lost my way and I must atone.
I've always been an anxious person. From as early as I can remember, I felt like the world was a chaotic and random place. And it appears to be, at first glance. So, I feared nature because I was isolated by society and society because it lacked nature. I fear the human condition because it is frail and fragile. I seems strange to fear the workings of your own body will fail you. No one ever promised me complete control. Yet, I feel entitled to it.
This is one of those times when I am feeling those pulses of anxiety. In the past these episodes corresponded with a changes in my life: my parent's divorce, my return to Maine from a brief stay in Maryland, my mother's move to Vermont for medical school, the end of high school, the end of college.
My first clear anxiety episode was when I was in fourth grade. At the time we were living in Greene, Maine. It is a solid half-hour from town. I remember watching Loony Toons one night when my parents were out. I had a cold at the time; I don't even need to remember it specifically. Odds dictation that, if you were a kid in Maine in the winter, you had a cold. Anyhow, all of a sudden I couldn't breath. I remember gasping and gasping, taking in huge gulps of air. My hands and feet began to tingle. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to die. I don't know if I called the neighbors or my sister, but Kathy Pepin came to my rescue. Upon arriving she immediately ran the shower as hot as it would go, put a towel over my head and told me to breath the steam as deeply as I could. I was a miricle. I got my first entoxicating dose of the afterglow of anxiety.
This afterglow is as addictive as any other drug. Not to mention the sick pleasure one gets from obscessing contastly about these issues.
I've not slept through in going on 8 nights. I hope tonight I can.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
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