After years of being petrified by fear, for a moment, I decided to live. Sit on the floor and play legos with my girls.
There are so many memories that I never made because I couldn’t move out of being scared. The tornado I was preparing for, never came though. But I feared it… because I couldn’t just be unrealistically optimistic. That reality seamed like just a possibility. Even though it was, in fact, reality.
So at one point, it just became too much. The world was so scary and so overwhelming that I burst into numbness. I wasn’t sad or scared anymore. I was just… there. Now. In the present. Which is a rare thing for me, but has always been a goal.
I thought about the little things around me that made me happy. A Hallmark Christmas movie. Knitting. Drawing. Everything I could touch and be. Right now. Not making plans for tomorrow or worrying about what it could bring.
And, for a second, I wasn’t scared. I wondered if that was happiness and wondered if this is how people without anxiety lived. I also wondered how long I could make it last. I felt like I deserved it.
It was an intense Monday.
I am listening to Alanis’ Words+Music. It is perfect.
I feel emotional, happy, sad and mostly not alone.
I’m thinking about how long it’s been since the day I locked myself in my room next to my CD player and determined I would memorize all the songs in her MTV acoustic special CD.
It’s been a lifetime.
Sometimes I am scared that we are moving too fast towards the end, even though this is technically the middle. Not for long.
On this audiobook she talks about how the uses her lyrics to get stuff out of her system. She does it so she won’t get sick. Apparently, it works. That’s when it hit me. This is what I do too. I write things down.
Whatever I am scared of, whatever it is that I am feeling that seems completely overwhelming… if I write it down, it becomes only words. And words don’t scare me that much. They are actually beautiful.
A couple years ago, my therapist asked me how I coped with the rollercoaster that is my mind. I didn’t have an answer. But this was it. This is how I cope. Using words… plus music.
You never know what you’re gonna learn about yourself every day.
I hope it helps you too.
I don’t quite understand how my brain works. The way a smell triggers a memory or the way there’s a certain song that will always make me cry as if something terrible had happened.
There’s one thing though that I know it’s very planted in my brain and even though I don’t get the mechanism, I like the way it feels.
Opening a brand new box of colored pencils makes me instantly happy.
I feel in kindergarten. I feel safe, and happy and just filled with possibilities.
Since I am an adult, now, apparently, I make sure *almost* every time I go to dollarama I came back with a brand new box of colored pencils. I have different brands, water colors, pastel, you name it. And it never gets old. Every time I open one… there is the feeling.
So, today, I wasn’t feeling my best. It’s a weird time for all of us. Therefore I decided to sit down with my kids and sort our used pencils in mason jars. It was late at night and the house was quiet. It was just us and the colors.
I wonder if it also made them happy.