Saturday, November 20, 2010

It's A Beautiful Morning

I keep thinking that tomorrow will be a better day. That I will wake up and this gnawing beast in my heart will be quieter in his chewing, that my thoughts will be more placid, more in tune with the cool, sweet air, the light which pours over everything, unhindered by the leaves of the pecan which are on the ground now leaving the limbs bare and unable to block the outpouring of the sun's affection.

I have moments of epiphany where I tell myself to let things pass through me, these thoughts, these worries, these jagged bits of unbased fear, just let them in and show them the way out, leaving me untouched and fine, tell myself to breathe in and breathe out, just so.
Yeah.

I slept so many hours last night and here I am again, using sleep as a drug and as a drug, it works well. But the time comes when you have to get up, no matter. You have to. There is no more sleep in you for that time.

Eating is becoming a problem. I don't care for it. And if I don't want to eat, I don't want to cook either. Thanksgiving is coming up and god knows I have plenty to be thankful for, not the least is which I am quite certain that in a day or two I will wake up and these feelings will be calmed. I know that.

Well, until then, one goes on. There is a walk to be taken, there are nests in the hen house to clean out. There is a house to clean, a birthday party to go to. There are lines to begin learning. I started marking my lines last night and I am wondering at Jack and Jan's sanity in assigning me a part which has so many of them. Truvy is in almost every scene, offering a line here and a line there. I think I am going to love Truvy and I can't wait until I can embrace her fully and take her into myself, giving her back out onstage. Dr. Stage, the real actors call it. You may puke before you walk onto it, but once there, you are healed. I am hoping for the best. I am going to do my best but that doesn't mean I am not scared to death.

Scared to death. I remember when depression danced with me by itself and as ridiculous as this sounds, I wish it were still so. Why did it decide to bring a new dancer with it? This anxiety? I knew the dance before, the steps. I did not like the dance, but it was familiar. Now, two years after this new partner has shown up, I am still confused and clumsy. I am wishing they would grasp each other- depression and anxiety- and forget about me in their dancing, go off together and leave me be, but no, they have formed some sort of crazy bond and decided that I am a perfect hostess for their goings-on.

It will pass. It will pass. It will pass.

It is a beautiful morning. I am not lying. It is.

20 comments:

  1. Oh, dear. I am so sorry that you are enduring these terrible feelings -- these monsters of depression and anxiety. I wish that I could ease your mind of them.

    Love to you.

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  2. Hoping the pain will ease up as you lean into the beauty of this morning. Big Hugs from Here. X0 N2

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  3. Anxiety sucks. I wish these two intruders would just dance right out of your life for good.

    Still, it amazes me how beautifully you continue to write even while enduring these times. I hope you find some comfort in the knowledge that this will pass.

    I'm sending you love and hugs:)

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  4. I suppose it's just a survival response to the extreme stress you grew up with. Some part of you doesn't trust the peace you have now, and it's trying to get you ready for flight of flight. how you tell it to stop, I do not know.

    I think it might be easier to eat if other people cooked for you.

    hugs*

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  5. thinking of you this morning...

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  6. These lines...

    "I tell myself to let things pass through me, these thoughts, these worries, these jagged bits of unbased fear, just let them in and show them the way out, leaving me untouched and fine, tell myself to breathe in and breathe out, just so."

    Oh yes, that is so how it is. So we learn the dance. We breathe and do the next thing. Just that. No more. It is enough. Hugs.

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  7. Elizabeth- You help. I don't know that you know that, but you do.

    N2- Thanks, sweet woman.

    Lulumarie- I feel them. Thank-you.

    Jo- You may be right about all of those things.

    Leslie- Thanks, sugar.

    Angella- Is it enough? I hope so.

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  8. I love the way you wrote about that, the dance, you got it right on. But I hate that you're feeling it so powerfully right now. I know it's horrendous, but I think the anxiety is actually a step out of the depression, closer to the real. That probably doesn't make any sense. Anxiety is more of an awake, alive feeling, even though it makes you want to scream/cry/die/hide. It's probably closer to what we were actually feeling back then (childhood), or NEEDED to feel, just fucking scared to death and not trusting anything. Not sure what I'm talking about. Trying to work my own stuff out obviously. I've been in a death fog for like 2 weeks and only today don't feel like dying. So I get you. Thanks for writing about this stuff, for telling it like it is.
    I'm thinking about you and so glad you are here.
    The eating thing worries me. I hope your appetite comes back soon.

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  9. PS I think you make an excellent Truvy. Congrts on the part. This is super exciting. Makes me smile just thinking about it. Hope it ca distract you enough to ease some of the pain.

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  10. Oh momma I hate it when you are sad and worried, it makes me sad and worried. I am serious about wanting to cook a brunch type deal for you and the boys on Thanksgiving. I would even have time to clean it all up. I will do whatever you want because I love you so.

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  11. Bethany- I don't know. I don't know shit at the moment. But I thank-you for your words, for what I know you are sending me, as I always do. I wish none of us went through this shit. I'm glad you're here too. And don't worry about the appetite. I'm fine. I'm fine. I promise you.

    Lily- Oh, honey. You know I go through this. It's okay. And you and that boy of yours and watching you and Jason and Owen be a family- well- there's a tonic I could never have dreamed of. I love you so much.

    Texino- Been a month of Sundays.

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  12. Mama, I read your blog every day and I don't comment all the time and you comment on every post I write, and I just wanted to tell you that so often your words are the first I hear and the last before I go to bed. I hear your voice and it is not even like you are writing and I am reading, but like you are telling me a wake-up story or a bedtime one. Remember when we talked about how the best writing was that which when read, one forgets that they are reading and just is in the story and it is happening inside? That is what your writing is. Your words are so precious to me. You are so precious to me.

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  13. I too hate having anxiety. I work my way through it. It does pass. And so much of the anxiety is unfounded in reality but just stuff that I invent.

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  14. Lily and May (Jessie and Hank, too, of course) you are such great kids (I say "kids" even though I know you are adults) ~ glad to get to know you a little through the blog!

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  15. May- Well, honey, commenting on my posts is about a full-time job. I wish all my good-morning and good-night stories were sweet and tender. I would wish to give that to you. I love you so much.

    Syd- It's so powerful. It overtakes me.

    Lulumarie- I am the most blessed mother.

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  16. Only two years? That is strange. I wonder how that goes as well now. I do wish I had a magic wand to make it go away for you.

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  17. I hope those two asshole bastard dancers forget you and dance off together, too. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

    Love you so.

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  18. Ugh. The anxiety. It has plagued me for the past week. I've been forcing myself to the gym and walking/jogging it out of my body. It helps for a while, until I get back in my own head.

    Here's to hoping that it passes soon, for all of us.

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  19. Mwa- Time. We can't catch it.

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- For you, too, my dear.

    notjustafemme- I never understood about what real anxiety was until it happened to me. That word is not strong enough. Yes. Keep exercising. Even if it just helps for awhile. And you can sleep better. I do.

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