30 October 2001
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It's not just here that I've been quiet; I've also been muting myself in my little paper journal. I can't even tell myself everything that's been fermenting in my brain. It's one of two things: the world catching on fire is affecting me more than I thought or I really need to stop watching TLC. This weekend I watched at least two episodes of Maternity Ward, one Labor & Delivery and several eps of Trauma: Life in the E.R. It's not normal, or healthy, for a single 25-year-old very much not pregnant woman to be worrying about what could go wrong when she gives birth. But I have been. And then I get angry at myself for giving into anxiety and hello, vicious cycle. I've been thinking morbid, awful things lately. When I see a plane in the sky, I stare at it until it goes out of sight, just waiting for it to explode. I've convinced myself I have 900 different kind of illnesses. I get flashes of car crashes when I climb behind the wheel of my Honda. Even after my accident I've always felt nothing but safe in that car. It's just that I've led a very blessed, sheltered life and over the past few months I've come to realize that Terrible Things can happen, and they can happen to me. And the most frustrating part of it is that I've always been an incredibly optimistic person. It's not hard for me to find a silver lining in any situation. This personality trait has annoyed some of my friends to no end. While bitching about guys they'd snip at me for "defending" him when really I was just looking at it from another side. Or in college, during great wallow sessions, I'd shine a light in. "How can you be so optimistic?" I've been asked. I really think it's because I've always had Faith. Why worry when God already knows my way? He knows where I'll go, he knows how I'll die. I just have to live. And so I did, with nary a thought about anything bad. I saw marriage and children and laughter and happiness. Of course I knew there'd be heartache and tough times and fights and tears. What I never, ever even allowed myself to imagine was that there could also be terror or disease or death creeping like a thief. Now, between the images on CNN and the stories on TLC - the mothers who come in with big bellies but who walk out alone, the teenagers who get pulled from their cars, the worried faces of families in waiting rooms - I've allowed anxiety to grip me. I've realized that all those stricken people - they're me. And while I've been lucky so far, I may not be lucky forever. I may not be lucky tomorrow. But I'm through with it. Through. Yesterday I told myself that I can only do one thing - live. Live, love, laugh and learn. And alliterate. That's all I can do. I'm going to start taking better care of myself and today I made a very big leap. I started a fitness program. For real, y'all. I got my fat percentage calculated and everything. With a calibrator. (Horrifying.) The gym at work is offering a 9 week training program specifically designed for women. We started today and I'm very happy with my group. There are five of us, myself and Liv included, and I'm very, VERY happy that none of them are prissy or skinny. (Well, Liv is thin, but not prissy.) We're all pretty much beginners and that is a beautiful thing. So, yeah. Heart palpitations be gone!
Wow, I'm depressing, aren't I? This will cheer you up. Look at her all bundled up in my big white comforter. Look! Have you seen anything cuter?
The notify already knows that I might be quiet in November. NaNoWriMo, you see.
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