Tag Archives: anxiety

I apprehend the day

special k wants me to write a post about him going on an adventure. So far he’s wandered into a forest, found magical bees with magical honey and gotten into a fight with a bear over it.

I might leave that for another day.

What I feel right now is that apprehension the day to come casts over the present moment. Just to clarify: I’m not entirely convinced about philosophies that tell you to “live in the moment”, so that’s not what’s bothering me.

But it does make sense to me that if the future I’m imagining has such pull on the now, so could a future I imagine differently with a very different kind of pull – one to get up in the morning for.

Does that even make sense? It’s late.

Anyway, I’m looking after the niece and nevvy for the next three days. My little bro was meant to fly to Melbourne and help me out, but in the grand tradition of Stef he missed his flight.

As he said, at least he didn’t lose his passport and have to pay $600 US to get it replaced. That did happen, among other things such as being apprehended for being a suspicious person. He’s not suspicious, just vague, and there’s that word apprehension again.

So he missed his flight, my three days with the kids are unrelieved. I love em, I just don’t know where I’m going to find the saliva to keep up with three days worth of questions.

the witching hour

the most vivid memory I have of childhood terror was one evening when I suddenly knew witches were real.

It’s almost frustrating to have something so ridiculous as my benchmark for terror, but also in a way perfect.

I remember feeling the truth of someone so much more malevolent than me out there in the world willing complex, unintelligible things into being. And how often I still feel that. An irrational anxiety attached to nothing more concrete than the idea that out there in the world are people more effective than me with ideas that differ so awfully from my own.

That out there in the world the sea floor is breaking and our custodianship of the world is going really rather badly.

When I was 22, shortly before the arrival of special k, I felt overwhelmed by this feeling and my Mum said to me: If you can’t believe in anything else, believe in your breathing in and out.

It was an amazing piece of advice.

The problem, though, is that most of the time we are capable of a lot more than that. I feel like despair comes from knowing how capable we are but not knowing where to start. It’s what makes me sometimes wish, with so much disrespect to so many things, that I were terminally ill.

Think of it like this: Every time I get a school assignment in the first few weeks of semester, I tell myself I could go and write that essay in the coming week and it would be done. Every time I wait until it’s due in a few days and the pressure’s on and I have no choice but to do it. Likewise, I have the opportunity right now to say what’s important and go for it in life, but it feels so hard to do until the pressure of life ending begins.

Erm, I don’t think I meant for this post to get quite so existential…

I think all I wanted to say was, when the witching hour arrives, just breathe. And then maybe more, if you are able, even though you don’t know how.