Choices, choices, choices.
Better mood, worse food. Well.
There’s just a lot I can’t do anything about save ride out the worry. I was in the car, as I am wont to do, driving as happens now and again, and I’ve been doing really well with that, so well, that I had to poke the hornet’s nest. The old panic, set aside for so long, began to rear its ugly, laconic, drooling head. I’ve been away so long, it crooned and spat, wouldn’t it be awful if I just turned up and DESTROYED you?!!! And the whole thing began at about 10% capacity, squinty eyes, the feeling that I would pass out, my hands hot and gripping the wheel too tightly and then unable to hold it at all, the hyperventilation, the sense that if I didn’t escape immediately something terrible would happen…all these telltale symptoms of a panic attack. And I suppose I have to be cheered by the fact that I was, in some sensible voice interested enough to bother, able to say, okay, well, I still have to sit here with my foot on the brake. And I will still have to drive myself on this same road and this same intersection tomorrow to get to work and I will still have to stop at stoplights again in my life. And these feelings are the feelings that emerge when I’m sugared up and upset and worried about how much control I have in the bigger picture. And, it may surprise you to know, that the light did eventually change and I was not turned into ash or sideswiped or honked at or in anyway noted by anyone. I just drove home, in my insane, roundabout, seven extra minutes backwards route. I know that as I chip away at this, those are the kind of walls I will have to push at, but right now, I’m pretty glad that I am able to get there on my own and the world feels a bit bigger and wider and more accessible. That’s a victory, mes amis. I will take it.
I am inching towards a new day for the diet. Towards wanting to do it for myself and for sanity and the benefits and all the ten thousand reasons I’ve gone into on this blog. Hard to be too demanding about it on a day where I made cupcakes, though. I recognize that. So we’ll see. That’s always the case and I find it comforting.
So I’m thinking about that, thinking about you, of course, because if you’ve left his body it is only a matter of time before you take another, and only a while longer before I find you again, and I can be patient for that. It’s a faith borne out of experience. It would be nice to match your speed when you flicker in, spend a few laps keeping pace, working up my best arguments to keep you in those bones long enough to see the other colors in your eyes.