Falling

Years ago I read a book called Learning to Fall by Philip Simmons.  I think it was in October 2003, the year I was diagnosed with a chronic illness.

You would think I would be better at it by now.

I'm not.

My anxiety has been stirred up the past few weeks.  I can't put my finger on the why of it.  The reality of it is a buzzing in my chest, butterflies in my stomach and a tingling in my legs.  Today, for example, I keep rubbing my legs to bring life to them - to reconnect my body to my limbs.

It is hard to explain.

It seems like life is piling itself upon me.  Our camper is in need of an expensive repair.  My car seems to be drinking oil.  I have so much to do between now and leaving for seven weeks to go visit my daughter.

I fret that I won't pack the right things.  I will forget something I really need.  I won't finish getting the presents ready to bring with me.

It's not like there aren't stores where I am going.

It's not like we have no money.

It's just anxiety rearing its head and tormenting me.

Everywhere I look there are things to do:  prep for teaching next month, packing, cleaning, sorting, repairing, raking, reading. Even my bookshelf is mocking me whenever I look at all the novels sitting there that I intend to read.

I can get it all done, I think, but I am not feeling well enough to tackle any of it and I am instead willing to just sleep, or watch TV and knit.

Not a very grownup way to deal with life, but it is all I have right now.

I did swim a mile on Wednesday - which helped in the short term.  I will swim again today.  Or go the gym.  Maybe both.

I have done the dishes, made the bed and the laundry is on.

I did finally get to the doctor for an on-going physical complaint and I hope the ointment she prescribed will do the trick.

I missed my Croatian lesson yesterday because we spent the day trying to get someone to look at some serious damage to our camper for which we do not know the cause.  So an insurance claim is in our future but I am worried they won't cover the costs.

I am worried my Croatian will not be good enough when I get there.

And on it goes.

'Call the waaambulance', I want to say to myself.

Take an orange pill and chill out.

I should have learned to fall by now.

Because I am falling.

But now? 

Now I will removed the novels I haven't read - write down their titles for future reference - and put them in the give away pile.

Then I will go to the pool.

There will be time.

My daughter said that to me once.

There is time.