Seeing it through

I don't want every post to be bizarre, so I'll try to put some thoughts into real sentences.


I walk differently when the temperatures drop. I'm even quicker-footed than normal, my pelvis and torso are rigid, and my shoulders nearly touch my earlobes. As a result, my back and neck hurt all of the time. When I crawl (literally, on the floor) out of bed in the morning, I have to spend 5 minutes in various child/cat/cow/cobra positions before I can stand and bring myself to put pants on. Obviously spending time stretching in the morning is good for my body and mind, but I only do it when I physically absolutely must. I've been mostly ignoring myself, and it's catching up to me.


I am anxious these days. Sometimes there is an obvious stressor, but mostly it's simply ambiguous and encompassing. Of course, at this time of year I can always blame Autumn, aka. "impending doom". Is this self-fulfilling prophecy, or just the bio/psycho/social response to the reigning in of Fall? It's not just me -I swear that every face I look at is weary, and SAD.


Of course, anxiety rears its head in my relationships, as well. I find myself uncharacteristically static in a group. I start and finish the night in one place. I overthink things I've said, feel unable to present coherent/true sentences about my thought-life, and my self-censorship is through the roof. Luckily(?), I wear this gentle kind of anxiety well, with apparent confidence and no real harm done to my general social/vocational/functional abilities. I am capable, still, of in-the-moment exuberance and I am grateful for those playful people who knowingly help me forget myself. I will go home and fret about it afterwards, but I remain human, and consistent, if nothing else.


It's actually been several years since I have had a significant persistent bout of anxiety or depression (the last medicable episode being postpartum in the winter of 2013). Even so, these sensations feel as familiar as when my bouts of panic and sadness were predictably annual. This week I accidentally stumbled across an old email that I sent around time of year 7 years ago. In it I perfectly described my current psychological state and referenced the same Rilke poem that I (re)sent (this very week) to the same friend who received the original email in 2011. I haven't been able to mindfully process what I think about this eternally-the-same, and yet, ever-new phenomenon.


I was renewing my membership to the national OT association the other day. There was a add-on option to purchase 12 hours of professional counselling services for $68. For some reason, I opted out. Steven furrows his brow at this choice. He thinks I'm foolish, considering my current state. He's probably right. But for some reason, I trust myself. I trust this cycle and the process of seeing it through.


I'm sad, and that's fine.