Alright. The silent retreat must come to an end. I don't know what my problem is, but it's going to stop now.
No one likes to admit when they're going through an emotionally difficult time in their life. There's always a sense of guilt in revealing these types of struggles, because there's always a million (or a hundred million) people out there who have it so much worse than my "mid-20s crisis." Crisis is such a strong word that it feels trite to use it in the context of feelings that are difficult to nail down and a nondescript sense of anxiety and fear. Does that even qualify as a crisis, when placed in perspective with the rest of the world's crises? But then, maybe the world in general is one of the greatest contributors to these feelings in me. I can't even find words to express the sadness that I feel. It's not my own life that leaves me with this feeling as much as the vast world outside, that I can't touch and can't see and can't begin to understand other than to be one more spectator to the media's coverage and interpretations of worldly events. Hurricanes, earthquakes, massacres, political injustice, human brutality. It all sits like a dark mass of discomfort that I don't know how to face or deal with.
There's also my personal life: My persistent complex of pointless worry, anxiety and fear of both failure and loss. Pointless doesn't even cover it. There is nothing on this earth that is more unproductive than fear. So why is it always there? Fear of failure to accomplish my goals. Fear of failure to make my relationship work. Fear of loss.
Fear of loss is something that I believe was seared into my soul when I witnessed my grandmother's sudden death as a four year old and was reinforced in my unsettling early 20s when many of my young friends lost their lives. The fear has gained strength as I have entered adulthood. As a teenager I was happy-go-lucky enough that I thought I was on top of the world. I didn't fear anything back then. It's true. I was free to enjoy every single thing that came my way. The joys of life weren't entangled with the fear that they were going to be torn from me or that things wouldn't necessarily work out. There was a sense of security in the belief that everything was going to turn out perfectly, since for me, in one way or another, I always seemed to have a way of landing on my feet. (I still do - I have had a sort of innate lucky streak in life) Or maybe I was always just good at viewing things positively and taking difficult situations and accepting them as learning experiences. Where has all that youthful positivity gone? Why has it been infringed upon by negativity, fear and self-sabotage? In fear, we lose joy, and by the time we learn to regain it, years of our lives can be consumed in a cloud of useless worry that obscures our ability to fully appreciate our blessings. I feel like this has already begun to happen to me and I need to find a way to put the breaks on. I need to find peace.
I remember as a teenager thinking that everyone should be smart and analytical enough to work out their own problems without drugs or therapy or anything else. I was so smug. I thought happiness was a simple choice that you made every day when the sun came up. As an adult, I fight back the forces and circumstances that make that choice difficult to make; emotional baggage that weighs down on me and makes me sad when I should be happy. And most of that is just fear and self-pity. I have an addictive personality that clings to low level mind altering substances to keep my grip on who I think I am. But it's not just about vices and addictions, it's about the structure of my self that makes me feel like those things are a crucial part of who I am and without them I would somehow be a less interesting person. (Stupid, right?)
I'm sure that reading this, it would be easy for someone to get the impression that I am hopelessly depressed. I'm not. I smile frequently. I enjoy life. I enjoy humor. I am not paralyzed by the issues I've discussed here. I get up every morning and put thought and energy into looking nice. I love spending time with my friends, I cherish my life and I love my boyfriend and my family. But fear is also a constant companion. And I'd like to tell the motherfucker (fear itself, that is) to kick rocks and leave me be. Anyway, all this has something to do with why I haven't been writing.
Posted by Maria at October 21, 2005 01:11 PM | TrackBack