Last week I felt the universe (and when I say "universe" I am globbing together what little I know or believe about existence, faith, coincidence, mystery, and all that other wibbly-wobbly Doctor Who type shit) was kind of taking pot shots at me. Like it knew I had been enjoying a lengthy period without the aid of anxiety or sleep medications.
As I mentioned previously, the apartment-hunting trip left me with a lot of emotions close to the surface. In addition to some hard-thinking about my parents' mortality, we also spent time with my aunt, my only other family, who is herself not in the best of health (I guess we live kind of hard.) It sounds so stupid, and childish, and generally deserving of a punch in the face, but I missed being ten years old. There was so many things to remind me of an easier time. Everything smelled and looked familiar. Sitting on the John Deere mower felt like both yesterday and five lifetimes ago. (Why is the smell of grass and grease so goddamn intoxicating?) When my aunt handed me the keys to the truck, I had a flashback to the exact same moment when I was sixteen and this was the greatest excitement imaginable. Stuff like that. Maybe I'm not doing a good job of describing things, but I was fragile. I couldn't quiet my mind down, which is a problem I haven't had in a long while. I ignored the first warnings (like one does) and kept on keeping on. Because what other choice is there?
Then Universe came along and decided I was extra-ready to feel some unexpected heartache. I started to type out an email to Brother on my phone, to give him a quick summary of how the trip was going. I typed the first letter, and it brought up...P's email address. Not my brother. My ex-boyfriend. The former love of my life. None of that made sense to me though because I had deleted P as a contact from my Gmail ages ago. He shouldn't have been an option to email at all. But there he was. I shook it off. The next day on the train ride home, I looked up just as we passed Larchmont....an otherwise unremarkable town that only means something to me because P and I did our first getaway together there. We just picked it and went. I could even see from the train the bar where we stopped and hung out as we waited for OUR train all that time ago. I wish I understood why I still hurt so much after all this time. No matter how many times I think it, or write it down "He broke your heart. Twice."
I don't get it yet.
So on the train, in the tunnel approaching New York City, I had my first anxiety attack in months. A tipping point was reached. It wasn't like some big dramatic thing, it was a quiet panic that resulted in seriously labored breathing, a dose of the shakes, and trying to reassure Mom that I was fine. Big emotions, leaving the fresh sea air for city smog, and an alternating mental tape loop of "I don't know what to do" and "What am I doing?" can only be pushed to the back burner so long. Eventually, you have to accept that you're struggling, and in my instance, you've had a setback. I think this is an important point that is not made frequently enough....when you are trying to climb out of the pit of hell, sometimes you backslide. Remember when Batman was trying to climb out of that hole Bane put him in, but the first couple of times he tried, he fell? That's me, you guys. I'm Batman. (Can't even type that with a straight face. Can't type it without imagining Christian Bale reading my words in his super growly Bat-Voice.)
But not all is lost. The Universe DID cut me a break when I finally solved my big coffee problem. My aunt has a mini-Keurig and I became completely obsessed with it. It's SO TINY AND EASY TO USE!!! So I toddled down to Bed Bath and Beyond and got my very own!
Needless to say, I love my new toy.
