I have just discovered something kind of important (to me). Almost every day at some point I start getting anxious but also yawning. I almost start to panic — I don’t know why. I feel like I want to connect more with people but at the same time I can’t face that. Some days this feeling overtakes me to the point where I can’t work, I can barely function other than to do chores like laundry and cleaning. I start to get sad about this feeling. Why does this keep happening, I think. What is wrong with me? Nothing is wrong — in fact many things are very right and good — and yet I cannot feel that. I feel like something is very wrong at those times and I eventually escape by lying down.
On some days, like today, my consciousness allows in the realization that nothing is wrong but that this is just a powerful and seemingly uncontrollable feeling that I do not like. It interferes with my ability to work. Sometimes it interferes with my desire to go out and live my life. So today I let myself go lie down without judging it, without thinking, Here it comes, that bad feeling, what is wrong with me…
And 40 minutes later I thought suddenly of something I wanted to do, in this case, eat some hot soup and my favorite salty rice crackers. The desire to eat was strong enough to push me out of the depths of my bed. And just now I had an ephiphany: I think that lying down in our soft bed with its thick snowy-white covers is my version of a hug-machine a la Temple Grandin. I lie there snuggling, burrowing my face into my pillow but not sleeping, even knowing I’m not going to sleep, and I feel myself calm down and return to my sunny, functioning self. I can feel my heart rate slow down. I notice sunlight coming through the window on Ned’s side of the bed. I feel the tiredness leave me. I get to a moment where I can throw off the covers and face the inevitable cold air. I stand up, I go downstairs, I make soup.
And I can write again.