Waiting For The Heck

For the last week or so, there has been this deep-rooted sense of dread sitting in the pit of my stomach. It feels like I can’t breathe. It’s settled into a low-grade anxiety. I can’t shake this horrible, horrible feeling. I don't know what it is or where it's coming from. Almost as if I’ve done something criminal, like robbed a bank or broken into somebody's house and gotten away with it. But I am still looking over my shoulder, not fully believing that anyone ever really gets away with anything. It’s the most horrible feeling in the world. I know I've used the word 'horrible' three times, but there's just no other way to describe it. It's that same feeling of dread I used to get when I did something wrong as a kid and knew I was in deep, deep trouble. It's like waiting for the Heck.

I keep trying to assess what it is. The truth is, I don’t know. There is something in my subconscious knocking on the window. My body knows it, but my conscious brain is trying as hard as it can to keep the window closed and ignore the tapping. My ego is railing against the enemy.

Something is rocking my world.

If I were to hazard a guess, I would say I am choking on some repressed feelings. So I have been writing to see what comes out. I wrote about unconditional love; I felt enormous relief. I thought I had it cased; that was it. Except that it came back. So I wrote some more. Was it about choosing not to suffer, not to be a victim of the past? Again, that only provided me temporary relief. I am on a high-speed train hurtling towards a cliff and my impending death. Is it because I am unemployed and my future isn’t completely mapped out? Is it because I have a crush on someone and I’m not telling him? Is it because I am making a conscious and implicit choice not to serve and support those in my life who need me the most? Is it because I see exactly what it is I need to do but am resisting it anyway? It might be fear. It might be me terrified about taking risks and "trusting everyone" and being accountable and living with integrity. It might be all of the above.

My usual outlets for this sort of tension, anger, etc.:
a) exercise
b) talking
c) writing
d) sex
or as an absolute last resort
e) crying

So hm. Only doing one out of five and it doesn't seem to be doing the trick. Plus, I've got nothing to cry about! I am re-reading my previous blog entries--they are mocking me with their enthusiasm and decision to choose happiness. It really is that simple. Except that I don't think this is about choosing or not choosing to be happy. I think this is part of me working towards a more peaceful, harmonious and ultimately, happy life.

One thing is for sure: I need to keep digging. And I need to face the beast and slay it if I am ever going to truly exact long-lasting and purposeful change in my life. I am my mother’s daughter. Maybe the key comes in accepting that very simple fact and beginning to frame it as a gift instead of a curse. Maybe I need to move from resistance to acceptance.

Oh, it sure is a mess down here in the seat of my soul. I wouldn't say no if anyone felt like tossing me down a cheeseburger: looks like I'm going to be here a while. The good news is that when I look up, I can see the way out. It's just that I don’t quite know how to climb on out through the top just yet.

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