Every morning for what seems like a good portion of last year I woke up with a knot in my stomach. My alarm clock went off and I curled into a ball, trying to disappear into the blankets. I hit the snooze button for as long as I possibly could before crawling out of bed to face the day. I lay there and made a mental list of why I felt so fearful of going out into the world. Some days there were realities present that made the anxiety understandable, though on a much smaller scale: a work presentation, a difficult conversation on the horizon, things that are generally unpleasant to most people. But there were no definable circumstances that explained the palpable sense of dread I so often felt, the nonspecific and diffuse uneasiness with life.
I had many options to help me cope with this all-consuming feeling of unquiet that persisted all day: therapy, pills, alcohol, vanity, sex, shopping, social activities, work, exercise, the passive consumption of media. If I engaged in enough of these things, patching them together in various ratios, I made it through the day. But just barely. I would also frequently take stock of all my accomplishments and incessantly list all the reasons I should be happy, full, satiated with the safety of knowing I’m a functioning member of society that has everything most people want. I had a solid career, a Master’s degree, artistic talents, intelligence, health and physical fitness, a car, many friends and acquaintances, an abundance of memories of travel and adventures. I counted these blessings, and acknowledged I’d done nothing special to earn them. They would momentarily reassure me but never give me lasting peace. The other available option was to numb myself to the swirling dissatisfaction with daily life by shutting down emotionally. I became very proficient in the use of this technique I’m sorry to say, spending some days on total and complete auto pilot, staring off into the distance as time passed.
Like most people I used a combination of all these things to keep the demons at bay. And needless to say it was tiring and redundant and useless. I wasn’t very good at it.
I think the anxiety came from many things: my emotional isolation, the hesitation to trust others, to connect and breathe them in, without fear of disappointment or rejection. It came from the deep sense of lack I experienced as a result of hoarding my failures and regrets and broken dreams, leaving little room for growth or joy. It sprang forth from hanging on to the past as though it had any meaning and balancing it with an obsession for what hope the future might bring. It came from the voice of self-loathing that told me who to be, and why I would never deserve good things. And this isn’t right. I know it’s not meant to be like this.
I believe that when necessary, the universe will always bring you to a place where you have nothing left to do but accept your vulnerability……. and trust. Maybe that’s how my growth eventually started, I’m not sure. I know several people crossed my path that helped me see that the doors of my prison are all locked from the inside. But I’m learning more and more how to live like a human being in several ways.
I’ve been trying to practice the art of doing things that I would rather not do in most cases, things that go against my intuitions or my knee-jerk reactions. I’m making a more conscious effort to forgive people, and treat them as though they’ve never hurt me, starting with a clean slate. Apologizing to people, even for very old transgressions, and being honest when my intentions were less than noble. Doing things that scare me and taking risks, but also being okay when the worst outcome happens. Being more authentically myself and exposing my vulnerabilities in an effort to build a true connection to others. Giving to people and not expecting anything in return.
And doing all these things, it’s not going so badly.
I don’t wake up feeling the weight of my own mind anymore, although I still have plenty of moments of confusion and regression and doubt. But I’ve never felt more sure that I’m making progress and heading in the right direction.
I’m getting better and better at being a human and I know the universe will give me what I need to stay on this track.
