I've been wanting to write for a while. I always want to and I never end up writing. Why do I not? Writing makes me nauseous. I must do it anyway. I must! But I don't... But here. Grab the keyboard while I'm at it, shoot out some wordsywords. While my phone is dead, while I feel isolated (even though I'm not in quarantine) and overwhelmed in such a way that my brain feels like it is starting to assume that there is no more, and I stare. It's what happens when I am anxious or overwhelmed. I focus on things. Like when drunk, and you see the person's lips moving very vividly and maybe in slow-motion, but you do not really process what they are saying. I stare at the mirror in the elevator. I look at myself from up close. Micro vision. That's what I see when I'm anxious. I sit in the bathroom and stare closely at the wall. The pattern on my leggings becomes some sort of full reality. The folds of the blanket take up the whole landscape. The old furniture becomes some soupy river surrounding me and swallowing me. I'm also exhausted, and maybe that's why everything is so strange. Haven't slept a full night in who knows how long...
I want to be home already.
And yet... I know that brokenness will follow me everywhere. But at least when I'm home I can hold it with some vigor and resilience.
My flight back to Seattle is this Wednesday night.
I've been working on getting boxes ready to ship over there with the stuff of mine that's been lingering around at my parents... I went down from around 18 boxes to 6. There are now 6 boxes that I must take to the post office tomorrow to send off by sea with an under-reliable postal service (because I can't afford private shipping companies and didn't do enough prior research), so hopefully my stuff will get there safely in six months or so (that's what they said they can guarantee)... There are many different frustrating components to this story: 1) I always wait until the last minute to do things; 2) I never fully research or ask enough questions about the bureaucratic matter at hand; 3) I always second-guess my decisions (and, well, I always end up needing to make quick decisions, because I don't do things far enough in advance...); 4) I have trouble deciding (and in this case, I have trouble deciding what to ship/what to bring in my suitcase/what to leave behind/what to throw out); 5) I get super frustrated about little things (like there's a certain thing I want to ship in the boxes that is too heavy, so I'll need to leave it here and take it next time I visit... It's a compilation of all my intellectual studies/classes I've taken in different post-high school programs, divided into categories, like Philosophy, Jewish History, Cultures and Languages, and so on. So I'm going to need to leave that behind... Not the end of the world, but my brain then harps on it as if that's the sole most important thing in my life and I can't live without it).
As D points out, I am experiencing the pre-flight anxiety that is typical for me, and if last time it was Nemo's vaccinations, this time it's the boxes, and it's normal. It reassures me to know that this is all internal and not objectively detrimental. We'll get through it. Hopefully we'll emerge on the other side with my boxes, though :)
And do realize that this time there are many additional levels that are pumping more anxiety through me... Coronavirus for one (and the fear that because of it I will be prevented from getting back home), and feeling disappointment at not having been fully functional these 2.5 months and not making the most of them, being upset with myself for spending so much time being depressed, and feeling a depletion of energy, an emptiness, about the tension and stress there was with this trip and the way it played out in a messy and unfulfilling way, feeling like I'm rolling through these last weeks in anxiety without being able to create mindful closure with anyone/anything.
Oh, my phone has full-on died and won't turn back on. It's been around 5 hours already, and still no phone. I'll sleep without a phone tonight. Maybe that's nice. I feel kind of lonely.