Slipping Off

Well, on this blog we talk about all of the good along with the bad.  I’ve had a little rough patch lately of feeling down and decided to just let my mind wander today, allowing my pent-up restless thoughts to zig zag across the page in whatever mischievous pitter patter they surmise. 

Plus, I haven’t written anything on introspection lately, so here you go… climb into my mind for a 3-minute reprieve and lose yourself. 

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It’s like I’m slowly slipping off a ledge… 

I take a deep breath and exhale. 

My eyes are closed, my hearing drifting like an ocean current in out of the dribble of sounds surrounding me – an open competition between the simmering highs and lows of birdsong chatter filtering in through my open window versus the guttural thrum from the natural gas of the wall heater.  On top of it all, wrapping up the cacophony like a bow completing a present, there’s the soft sifting of emerald leaves mimicking the gentle murmur of rushing water. 

These sounds should be soothing me, but they aren’t. 

Spring, I think to myself.  Time for sunshine and new beginnings.  But that’s not what I’m experiencing now.  No… not even close.  My chest is clenched like an iron fist has steel fingers wrapped around my heart, my pulse quickening to a crescendo as if it’s about to jump out of my body and race down the street. 

The anxiety is usually the killer.  Cycles of worry pricking my skin like a nagging ache.  But there’s no off switch for my brain while my thoughts scatter into a thousand tiny spiders scurrying across my mind. 

I feel the weight of everything pushing down on my me, vexing, yet I don’t know what it is. 

Something is wrong… I know that much.  But I can’t seem to place my finger on it. 

I feel it again now.  Not something rash and palpable, but a slippery unrest lodged deep within my bones, lingering and muddled like a cloaked figure straddling a distant horizon.  I try to think of happy thoughts, but that doesn’t work (does it ever?). 

It’s in me now, coursing through my veins.  I no longer have the choice of control and just have to ride it out… 

It’s okay to have off days… when we slip into a shadow of shame and ugliness. 

When you’ve gone through enough therapy, put in the effort and countless hours to map the farthest reaches of your troubled psyche, you might have an advantage trudging through these darker days of angst.  No answers are guaranteed.  No… they never are.  And sometimes the search will make you just as lost as the answers themselves.  But more often than not, you’re able to at least glean an understanding when you’ve veered off the path and need to get going on your way again.  You know from past experience, stick around in these parts of the black woods too long, and the cure can all too quickly become the cancer. 

I’m off…  Feeling off… like there’s a piece of the puzzle missing that I can’t find. 

But I’ve known that much for a while now.  The past three weeks have been brutal at work and I still don’t see any motivational end in sight.  Take the stress and anxiety alone, and I know it isn’t healthy.  Plus, not being able to exercise because of my foot surgery that still hasn’t healed yet, doesn’t help the matter (that’s a whole other post coming when I finally get around to it). 

And who knows… maybe the world is getting to me.  Working from home was a much-needed break at first, but then the workload quickly seemed to escalate and increase to fill the additional hours in my day that I had just rescued from a brutal commute.  We also still have the Pandemic unraveling any sense of normalcy and then mix that in with the protests, looting and lockdowns around LA this past week and maybe all of this has just been too much change, in too short of a period for my mind to process. 

I take pride in being a type A personality.  I like to get things done and it’s hard when a spout of depression hits.  Because that doesn’t feel like me… doesn’t seem like me.  I’m better than that, I used to tell myself.  But I’ve put in enough work to understand it now.  That’s just part of the deal, when tough times hit you roll with them.  The strength comes in knowing that I’m allowed to feel like this.  I’ve forgiven myself, and that’s the hardest part. 

Accepting it is the strength and not a weakness. 

Some days will be better than others and I don’t get to pick which days those are.  When I wake up, I take it one day at time and make the best of what cards I’m dealt on that unique morning.  It will be okay, it will always be okay if you let it.  Do the best with what you have and there’s really nothing more you can ask for. 

But I can’t help feeling this growing sense of malaise for what the world is coming to.  Worry and fear gnawing in my gut like a hound after its bone.  Yet, things will work out as they always do, this too shall pass.  

Like I said before, it’s okay to feel off.  It’s okay to have down days.  That’s just part of life… 

My dog barks, a piercing shock to my system as if I’ve been impaled on the jolt of it.  Then I settle down and try to quell my anxious nerves again.  I’m alone in my living room – staring out the window as if my mind were a solid presence sitting next to me. 

I drink in the moment as if it were an elixir, becoming hopeful and nostalgic. 

Then I settle on where my thoughts always take me at these times… 

Everything always comes back to addiction for me, because that is my Achilles heel.  It’s like a carnivorous tattoo stitched on the inside of my skin, permanent and unforgiving.  Turn me inside out and you’ll see the scars of affliction grinning back at you like a predator stalking its prey.  

In addiction speak, a slip is a relapse.  But this isn’t that at all.  No… not even close.  This is something much more subtle and a universal pain that any human can relate to.  It’s the semblance of off days strung together like fish on a line.  It’s those static doldrums, thick as fog and relentless as the burning sun, where you feel stuck in a sea of your own making and can’t seem to find the inner strength to paddle your way out. 

Still, I can’t wander these lonesome roads for too long.  I need to be on top of it, and not let these feelings fester languorously.  Because if they do, if they take root and grow, then the result might someday burgeon into a jungle of vines and foliage so fierce that not even the machete of my conscience will be able to hack its way through. 

But not today.  No… not today.  Today I’ll be fine.  Today I’ll be okay.  We put one foot in front of the other until all these random points start to form a coherent path again.  And then we’re off… careening down the chaotic gauntlet of our lives, too busy to even remember we were even feeling down, after it again as if we were seeking the golden ticket to the meaning of life. 

And it’s okay to slip (metaphorically speaking).  We regain our footing and step back from the ledge.  Eyes wide with a newfound luster we gather ourselves and look toward the distant horizon with a hopeful mirth.  The lingering desperation fades like smoke in the wind. 

Because there’s more to do… more to be… and we haven’t left our mark yet on all the people we love and cherish and need us just as much as we need them. 

So, we remind ourselves of community; whether that’s a partner, a pet, a family member, a friend or even an anonymous online blogging camaraderie. 

We pause… find what we are looking for… start to not feel so alone again… and we remember it’s at the expense of today, when we slip into tomorrow. 

Stay present my friends. 

-Q-FI 

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How’s everyone holding up out there?  Been a little rough patch for me lately, but working through it and already on the upswing.  Hopefully the world will get some better news soon and we can shift from the anger to the healing part.  Stay safe.