The Stretching Rack of Anxiety


I’ve had a post on the back burner of my brain for some time now. I keep waiting for it to “crown,” but I’m just not there yet. Maybe if I

Just

Start

Writing

Something will come up.

.

.

.

It’s strange how hot-cold I can feel when it comes to relationship. On the one hand, I’m intensely interested in people and what they’re up to. I love people’s stories, their faces, their thoughts, and their decisions. I love trying to figure people out and generally enjoy them. In small doses.

On the other there’s a definite fear of relationship and a constant background mental static that’s broadcasting a fight or flight message. Some days, the radio broadcast is loud and unstoppable. Other days, it’s just a background hiss, slowly eating away at my enjoyment of an essential human pleasure: social interaction. But it’s always there. A tension in my neck that’s my constant companion on the streets. A need to see if I’m being stared at on the subway. A heat in my diaphragm, an intense moment of accidental eye contact that has my thoughts confirming: “see, you’re weird.”

Whose voice is that, I wonder?

I still don’t know the answer to that or what the survival value in such self-defeat is. What does your inner gremlin say to you? Do you have a visceral response inside somewhere when you’re feeling your anxiety demand your full attention or is it more mental?

Such a strange thing…I hope knowing you’re not alone helps beat back the dark somewhat. And maybe knowing that it doesn’t have to stop you from doing what excites you. I gave up my job in NC even though it paid well and was safe for the unknown because safety and comfort were draining my vitality. Now I’m mostly confused – but some days incredibly inspired as well.

The wilderness beckons.

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