Tag: detachment

An Illusory Leap

March 3, 2020

I am really good at coming up with ideas. As a small child, I would fill notebooks with drawings of ideas for clothing, brands, inventions, novel plots, and new worlds. However, nothing really came of any of any of those ideas, I simply kept them in the notebook all shut up. They began to collect dust on the shelf.

I do remember one instance where one of my weird, but complex ideas was put to use. It was seventh or eighth grade, and as a part of a history project, we were to create our own country with it’s own language. I dusted off one of those notebooks within which I had created a people and language, called Navi. (This was way before Avatar came out, so I have concluded my idea stolen hahaha; JK, it never saw light of day from it’s inception at 8 years old until middle school). It was really just a code I had created during my spy phase in late childhood. I even wrote in it fluently in my journals so no one could read my inner most thoughts. I proudly, yet somewhat shyly presented my country. Although everyone was impressed at the detail, of course, it wasn’t as significant as in my eyes. After that, however, the language and thought was less special in my eyes because it was no longer secret. It was no longer my secret little language. I don’t know what there is to that story… maybe just that I have been reluctant to bring my ideas to fruition because I want them to stay ideal – a perfect image in my mind, untainted by reality.

I feel like so many times, I have reached the edge of that new venture, where there was a lot of uncertainty, pumped up with ideas and strategies, and yet something like this happens:

I thought of this clip when I started formulating this blog post in my head. So that anxiety that Mr. Bean felt, and the feeling of everyone watching, is usually something I face when I want to try a new thing that I know will take a lot of courage, persistence, and time. I gleefully see the opportunity and walk up with a sense of excitement; but, once I reach the top and see the view from there, every attempt to leap seems to fail. This new opportunity becomes an illusion, yet I feel I can’t return to where I was… so where to go but nowhere. At least I know what that looks like.

I realize that one does not have to deal with anxiety or the like to experience this. Most people do at some point. However, I have seen this as a trend in my life and it has grown in that sometimes I dread and am anxious to do simple things if they haven’t been done before.

Most of the human population live within the bubble of the familiar, which isn’t a bad thing necessarily if you are one who prefers that predictability. Those dependable, seemingly predictable people are probably needed in society. However, I am not one of those people who long for that predictability. I want adventure and I want to be challenged. The anxiety and OCD that I have dealt with – usually keeping me from taking risks or trying to make things perfect before I risk – really has strangled that inborn desire for adventure. I have missed so many opportunities because I wanted to sit back where it was safe or where I didn’t need to be pushed or anything really expected of me. I didn’t want to fail because failure meant becoming vulnerable.

Photo from wandering around in Japan. Traveling to Japan alone was one of the biggest risks I have taken thus far!

There are some things that I realize are beginning to bite me back. I was a very good student throughout my whole life. However, what I thought was a love for learning many times was a desire for validation from my teacher and peers for the marks I received. I was working to get that grade, rather than simply enjoy the material, and take risks in the ideas and questions I put forth. I only raised my hand when I thought my comment or question was perfect, rather than because I was genuinely curious and didn’t care to look a fool. I think near the end of college, I started taking more risks in my essays, and that was when I started failing epically for the first time.

I did take some risks, but usually they were more calculated and safe than one might think. I am not being hard on myself, I think this is all just a part of growth for my story. I am just starting to notice these parts of me that need to wake up if I want to live the kind of life I want to and make the impact I desire.

As I started getting treatment through therapy starting back in 2017, I noticed my ability to have courage and take risks started to increase incrementally. After I emerged from a sort of cocoon phase, I started sharing my music to the public for the first time and doing shows. However, hardship hit again and I seemingly shrunk back into the cocoon.

I have always thought of that as negative. Now, as I am thinking about that analogy, this is not a bad thing. Shrinking back into the cocoon can be seen as a new opportunity to evolve, develop, and grow into something even more beautiful and great. I may not be leaping wildly off into the unknown at present, but I am busy honing in on what needs growth while inside my cocoon. I am at a restful, yet busy phase while in this cocoon.

Thank you for reading this stream-of-thought style post!

-Bethany

Song feature- “What If?” by Coldplay

This Week I Left Earth

July 22, 2019

I held on, almost in desperation, to my loving boyfriend. I felt as if gravity was reversing and sucking me up feet first into the sky. The fatigue that racked my body almost didn’t seem real… so I held on, fighting not to give in to the pull.

“I’m sorry, babe. I can’t be present with you right now. I feel so sick. I feel like I’m not even here, but in a dream.“

“It’s fine, you don’t need to try to be anything.”

My body tightened. I could not believe that. I could not accept it…I was fighting to simply be.

I was so frustrated. The prior evening was characterized by loving communication and trust building. 24 hours later, my physical fatigue was pulling me away from this beautiful, simple moment of walking through the cool, summer evening with my love.

Which came first? Anxious thoughts that I tried shoving out of the door of my mind only to physically manifest as exhaustion for the impossible endeavor? Or was my indigestion giving irrational anxiety to interpret my experience? Either way, I was detached completely from sensation external and internal. Although I remember being held for nearly ten minutes, my memory is void of emotion or any feeling or affection. Though, I know in that moment I was loved, and tried my best to receive it, I cannot remember it…

I wasn’t lying either. I love him. But I remember nothing of feeling this since my mind has been drifting frequently to and from earth this week. My memories are fading into nothing but black and white reel in my mind, parts of the film distorted, expressions changed from joyous to withered with apathy or weariness. How can I continue to grow in love when I keep forgetting?

It is as if the claws of PTSD are trying to grab a memory and cast it into the void of space, never to be enjoyed again, assure my bonds with others, retell of God’s goodness, getting smaller as it floats away by inertia…but why is my mind trying to bury good memories? Why is my mind alerting every small disturbance as reason to run away, cut ties with those I love most, and go…nowhere?

I have been playing phone tag with my therapist these last few days.

“I need to go see my therapist.”

I have stated this an embarrassing number of times since my boyfriend came back to live in our hometown, but still haven’t acted. I could feel the push and tug of anxiety. Coasting blissfully and in control for weeks only to have one negative experience pull me away from earth again. Or I would crash to earth, burrowed in a hole of depression.

My excuses: “I don’t have time”, “My boyfriend needs my support more than I need help at this point”, “I’ll go later when things have settled”.

These excuses have led to my becoming incapable of being alone for extended periods of time without spiraling, binging (of food and/or media), skipping exercise, or isolating myself.

Obviously, I need help.

________

Experience mine and others journeys to and from earth in this personal blogging through my navigating this relatively newly emerging thing in my life called anxiety. I say mine and others because I don’t want to make this simply about what plagues me, but I also want to bring in other voices who live with chronic issues and their stories of victory. Positivity is hard when everything is muddled within and ticking like a time bomb; when food starts to lose it’s flavor; you cannot feel the wind; or, your muscles feel weak although you’ve done nothing but lay down all day. So I hope to not bring some sort of toxic positive message, as some have within the Christian communities, but to dig into my own experience and others to bring a biblical perspective on living life to it’s utmost fullness despite “thorns in the flesh”.

This blog will also operate as a mode of accountability for me to continue going to see my therapist and get to a better place. There are too many great things ahead for me to submit fully to this.

The other night, my boyfriend and I were having a discussion about peace. I asked him what it meant, and to my surprise he said “violence”. A violent act – strong and powerful force – needs to happen to attain peace, and by this I mean a godly peace – not feigned ignorance, but completeness, shalom. And confidence. I am set out to explore what this violent act(s) needs to occur in my story.

I also am going to post my art, music, and resources acquired. I also want to collect the art and music or you out there who have funneled all your experience with mental health into art. If you have art or music that you want to share, please send it to me by emailing contactanxiousanne@gmail.com .