My proactive weekend self-care and my Monday reality were not on the same page today. I felt, unexpectedly, like I was in a prolonged and slow-moving anxiety spiral that I couldn’t yank myself out of from the moment I woke up. Work is A Thing this week, but damn, my mind and body threw me for a loop.
I read my book and meditated before work, I got up from my desk and did jumping jacks. I did my job and tried to ignore how my chest felt like it was coiling tighter; like I was one more push away from a mini-meltdown. And honestly, it didn’t feel like that much emotional upheaval was warranted for the stress in the situation — which admittedly is a lot, but I had it under control.
At last, I took a break and went for a run over lunch. Something I had been hesitating to do since my knee was hurting, but I needed to burn some of this anxiety off or I knew my productive reaction to stress was going to turn into a shutdown reaction to stress by the midafternoon.
The run helped, even though my knee hurt the whole time (and after) (uffda, I’m working on it). But I felt like I could breathe and think again. By the evening I had to take a break for dinner before I was ready to stop working and put my phone across the room and eat mac & cheese and watch John Oliver and just not think for 30 minutes. That tightening anxiety that pushed tears behind my eyes still present, but when I demanded of myself ‘just cry about something then and get it out’ I couldn’t figure out what I needed.
But it was enough of a respite to finish work and then keep a writing date where I got to think about running stories and the 90s and how I can tell a love story I believe. It feels so good to write fiction again.
I document all of this because sometimes anxiety or stress or sadness is hard to pinpoint. There are reasons but sometimes there are not reasons. At least, not obvious ones. And sometimes you can do the right thing — meditate, go for the run, keep your social plans, work on something you love — and it’s still a hard day battling to keep yourself evened out.
So I make a fire to write by and I’ll finish rereading one of my favorite books and I’ll convince myself to sleep eventually and know that I can handle it. Tomorrow and the next.
With Love,
Natalie