Nothing Ever Happens on Mars.

First of all, Welcome to my personal growth blog!

Every morning at the farm where I've been for a week or so now I get up and sit here with my coffee. I have a new coffee pot that is very good and so this is a better than usual event. I just look out the window and think. My mom says I get thinking from my father.

I've been a nervous wreck for the last week, with no real explanation except that I'm really terrible at relaxing. Just the way I am. With time off my anxiety blooms; spores of it mushrooming, a dark algae in standing water. Invasive and fetid ... by the time I realize what's happening it's too late, it's systemic...HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! 

I convinced myself of dizzy spells, I have low iron, a sinus infection, parasites!, early signs of a stroke, chest pain. Lately I've been trying to just let it take over, staying in bed half the day sometimes, eating chicken liver pate with a spoon (high in iron) and going to bed at 8pm some nights. I'm getting better at handling anxiety, just letting it happen. Just being OK with the strange feelings, no matter how uncomfortable. Fighting it makes it worse. 

When I think about how I wanted Christmas to go it's like this; me and Mookie had a week with no work, no visitors at the farm and were going to relax and spend days in pajamas making waffles and reading in bed and talking like we used to, losing track of days taking long walks with the dog...

If you want to really fuck yourself, set up a bunch of 'realistic' expectations and then wait to check em off like a laundry list of happiness. Life is like this in general. I'll be happy when I fall in love, when I have my own business, when I have a farm. 

Now I have to deal with myself or invent more tasks and more distractions. Which undoubtedly I will do because I am a modern, success-oriented woman. But I know I have to keep coming back to deal with this thing in me; this deep dissatisfaction that is the result of always ignoring the moment and rushing to the next thing. 

For my sanity I keep one foot in the city. I find rest in the joyous hum of days carved up into 1/2 hour segments buzzing around in the back of a taxi cab yelling into the phone. Like magic, every single one of my symptoms vanishes when I'm there.