I’m sorry I’ve been a bit MIA this week. I keep having all these thoughts, but when it actually comes time to out the thoughts into words, they just don’t want to come. I’ve been a bundle of emotions lately, and everything I want to say just doesn’t come out right. I feel vulnerable, open, raw, everything that should, in theory, make for a great post or twelve, but that rawness just feels too raw to want to expose it any more. I am going to take a chance though, and share my thoughts and feelings because maybe, just maybe, it will help to get them out of my head and onto the page.
I have struggled with anxiety for probably as long as I can remember. It didn’t used to have a name, for probably most of my life it was just a feeling. The assumption that something was wrong because someone was late in getting home. That nagging at the back of your head when you weren’t well, the stress when those you love weren’t. The fear that something was going too happen, and the feeling of not being able to be at ease. The claws, trying to dig into your brain and scratch away happiness and contentment. Just because. I know that I worry too much. It manifests itself in physical ways for me and in mental ones. Itchy skin, hair falling out, loss of appetite. Now, I know better, know that I have a tendency towards anxiousness. Knowing that doesn’t help though. It doesn’t give me that room to breathe that I so crave at times. It doesn’t give peace to my over-working brain, or my nervous heart or that little voice in my head that says that things aren’t ok. It’s just a word.
Chronic pain has just heightened these feelings for me and although at times I am fine, sometimes, like now, I kind of wish I could wrap myself and everyone that I care about in bubble wrap and scuttle us all off to a cave in here middle of nowhere. Someone where no one hurts or gets sick. Somewhere that we aren’t struggling for ways to explain acts of senseless to our kids, where they can keep their innocence about them for just a while longer. Somewhere that we can all be at peace with ourselves and with each other. I know that no such place exists though, and so I struggle. There are days that I wonder just how I am going to keep my head afloat. Sucks, but true.
I miss my physical outlets right now. I long to be able to put on some music and let the movement and the emotion, the hurt and anger and sorrow flow from my body like sweat. I want those feelings to be replaced with the joy and ease and freedom that dance provides for me. I want to take something raw and turn it into something powerful and meaningful and give a voice to my feelings without ever having to say them. I need to let them go. But I can’t, and so I have to open myself up with words and say them, although not out loud, still out there, and still scary. I don’t like being vulnerable, open and raw right now. I need to be strong, but what do you do when you just feel like you can’t carry the load that you have to bear? I know that you have to just put one foot in front of the other and keep walking. I have to accept that it is ok to be vulnerable and open and raw, but how do you do that? It is scary, scary as anything, and I will be frank in saying that I don’t know if I can.
So please bear with me as I try to find a way to share myself in a real way. I think that even sharing this has been a big step, and maybe one that will be a positive one too. As much as we like to only portray the good stuff in our lives, it isn’t real life if we do. So here I am, warts and scrapes and all.