Dear anxiety,
This is an open letter to you and who ever you are. No name, really. I’ve named you in the past just to have a name to yell at. But maybe you need calmly talked to. Maybe you need a nice calming name like, I can’t think of a calm name. Maybe Clair? Sometimes you are a phrase, what the fuck? Sometimes you are just me. So maybe it’s Heather. As light as a feather with a silent P. You are just me but I am not you.
When I told my mom about wanting to give up on scuba diving her first question was, did you have to buy the gear? Then she said it might not be for me , You get anxiety. I get it? Like it comes and goes? Like I’m calm and then I am anxious? not anxious then anxious? What did she mean, anxiety? Do you come and go? I feel like you are here to stay. I don’t get un-anxious. I don’t get calm and quiet. I can’t even hold still. You fuel even my body to move.
Last night I tricked you. I woke panicked about who knows what and I stayed put. I just didn’t want to get up. I was exhausted. I stayed horizontal in my bed and forced you to stop messing with me. My heart was beating wildly. I love a good wild beating heart, don’t get me wrong it’s a good clear sign of life and love but let me earn it. Let that heart race from a good race or a good love story. Or a good campfire story. Or just my own story. I don’t need wrestled in the evening hours of rest to feel alive. I need to just be me again.
So I closed my eyes and pretended I was under water. Breathing under water. Not like a fish. Like a person. In and out and in and out I didn’t use my nose. I didn’t hold my nose. I pretended I had a cold. Then I looked to see if any houses are for sale. I’ve always wanted a house. A quick Google search to stop whatever tickled me awake won’t hurt. Quickly I find that there are none. Lots but all gobbled up from so many others who can’t sleep and google houses. So I went to Pinterest. Why am I looking for a rabbit hole to fall in when I need to be breathing? but even rabbits need to breath in those holes. So I let myself find some calming, yes calming phrases about life. And love. And loss. A few good words. I was still not up and trying to make my hands busy. I was beating you. As you beat wildly through my body. At your own game? My own game?
I formulated a plan that says I am not giving up if I have to wait for my lack of tooth to finish this journey under water. I can’t find a good reason to push myself other than that’s all I know. Resting means giving up. Not doing anything is giving up. You want me to stop? Then I might as well turn around and go home or die.
I don’t want to name you as it will make me believe you are one and I am another. When we are the same. I am anxious not I get anxiety. that’s like saying I get a rash. Like it might come and go based on irritants around me. But even when not irritated you are there. I am not two people.
I feel like I, yes I have circled back. I lost once and found I felt lost. Then I lost someone so significant I felt lost again. Except this time I knew where to look and how to. I knew who and what and how and what to say and not. I knew who to let in and then when I saw it wrong I stopped. I attracted all the same kinds of people as last time I grieved this hard only this time I saw it coming. And stopped it. Then did what I know now to do when I am this lost. In grief.
I am still in grief not I get anxiety. I get grief. I am anxious and grieving. But anxiety is not me. I am me. So I’m going to make me breath under water so I can do it above better. I’m sorry it’s the best approach to this stage of grief. Which is growing through it. It’s the deepest fear I have. The one that says it’s the last one. But from now on that last one has to be real good in hopes it isn’t. I need some hope from anxiety. So I can grieve to hope again. For me.
Let’s focus, call it grounding or maybe not drowning but let’s think back. Tip toe into that deep end, or maybe sink and wonder there under water breathing, to when it was the quietest you have ever heard. Can that even be a thing? It’s so quiet I heard it? Guess what I heard? I heard, me. I signaled to go up and waited to be told what to do and then I slowly swam back up. I heard breath in and breath out. I panicked at the thought of being just 12 feet below ground breathing air that I supplied to me. Yes, I hooked it up and made this possible. I heard nothing but me for a minute. And it freaked me out then I bit real hard on those teeth I take it all out on and wanted to scream it was so new. So unusual to hear and see so clearly. He signaled to clear my ears then to signal ok. Then I crept slowly to the deep end. It isn’t as dark as it looks from above? Is it? It was darker looking up but kind of like a crystal sky. It rippled and crackled above me. He kept weighing me down. I wanted to fill those lungs and float right to the top and he wanted to sink me like a ton of bricks. Why? Because he was me once? Eager and anxious for that calming feeling that comes with total trust. He was once so uncertain of himself he dove this deep too. He was once you. Now he is him. And I was once you and now look where I am and you are?
Love,
Me
Aspenleaf 