Of all the stories I’ve written and all the subjects I’ve covered, this one is without a doubt the most challenging, hands down. I want to share with you the most ruthless, shape-shifting adversary you will ever have. This life sucker goes by the name of anxiety, something the vast majority of you are familiar with, especially these days.
Honestly, I never thought about writing this, primarily because I did not think I would ever be able to. I want to see about tracing its footsteps, which went from tiptoeing to a full blown Nazi goose step. When you finally realize it has a choke hold on you, there doesn’t seem to be any recourse. There is no such thing as small, because everything feels over powering, with no precedent and no way out.
Virtually all illnesses have an identifiable cause that can usually be treated. This does not apply to the gift of anxiety. It was one thing to identify symptoms and a totally different beast to finger the cause(s). The more time I have spent with it, the more I am convinced it is a completely unique experience for each recipient of this gift of thorns. So, this is being written to each of you, who think nobody could possibly understand what you’re feeling.
I look back now and I have no idea where the courage came from to leave NYC at 42 for Santa Fe, NM. I had a little money in the bank, thanks to my accountant, who recovered my incredibly stupid investment in a failed bar in Easton, PA. A few months prior, I bought a small, adobe home, south of town in the Cerrillos Flats. I had plenty of time to think during the week it took to cross the country. There was no fear or anxiety.
I spent the next forty odd years kind of winging it. I moved from the southwest to Kauai over 20 year ago and believed I was being watched over. Of course, the older I got, the more time came to life on an everyday basis. Its taste began to subtly sour with its passage. Through the luxury of hindsight, I’d have to say my penchant for over thinking and over worrying finally began to weaken my resistance to this twin turbulence.
All that thinking and worrying kept me afloat as an entrepreneur, staying one step ahead of the looming crash. Man, I was really good at it. I’d have to say it afforded me opportunities to lead a real interesting life and I have. As I have ripened on the vine, most everything has slowed down, with one glaring exception. My mind was still hustling on the next move and all of a sudden, it’s like everything disappeared and there was nowhere to go. You can’t turn off that kind of machine, so it turns on you, at least that’s my story to share.
All of the things I unconsciously took for granted seemed to slowly slip out of reach. Insomnia offers a perfect landing for all this newly discovered disruption. This can be a very dangerous time for the mind. I had some of the most terrifying thoughts, paralyzed by anxiety, while frozen stiff on the bed. I not only stopped looking forward to nights, but it spilled over into my day life. Anxiety does not trumpet its presence in your life. By the time you name it, its claws have already sunken deep into your soul.
I want to stop here for just a moment, lest this just becomes my story. I don’t know how many times I have written that I have no interest in sharing stories that don’t also resonate with at least some of you. To one degree or another, we all have or have experienced anxiety, which is not what I am talking about. I am talking about what happens when it takes over your life. It is a wallless prison that is fully experienced and never seen.
Virtually everything you see and experience gets exaggerated. When the sun is bright, I must be getting cataracts. A tightness in the chest is constant company and the only possibility is heart failure. A dizzy spell is a sign of something and it can’t be good. I became convinced my pulse was racing, even when I could barely feel it. Every pain or passing discomfort is a sure sign of cancer. In other words, there is never any good news in the throes of anxiety’s guillotine. These are not slippery thoughts that slide away, they linger and run into the next one. It is an endless, knotted noose.
Of course, you share it with your doctor, not that it is easy to explain either. The response is a medical one, because that is their training and it is not a criticism. Currently, we have settled on a low dose of Lexapro, in order to mute some of anxiety’s screams. At night, I am taking something called Lorazepam, to do much same and help sleep. Of course, I am going to share this story with him. I think he has been doing an incredible job and has displayed a depth of caring that has been a true comfort.
Somewhere along the way, my path crossed with a Hawaiian healer, which ushered me into an unexpected journey. At his direction, I performed an unbelievably, powerful healing ceremony that was truly life changing. Somehow, I lost him along the way and while it saddens me, it has strengthened my own resolve. I now know I am not alone with all this, because I know Ke Akua is watching over me. I was touched very deeply during that ceremony and carry it with me always. This time has certainly been a psychological potpourri with a sour after taste.
I got a really good question. Why the hell am I writing about this now? The most unbelievable thing happened to me about a month ago. It has taken me this much time to accept it, allowing a light to shine on the way home. During this very dark time, I became a stranger to myself. Panic was always just one breath away. Seemingly out of the blue, I felt exactly like Larry, the guy who has kept me company all these years. It was a rare moment of complete calm. These visitations began increasing and a kind of self-confidence was making itself felt. Before I continue this tale of a kind of redemption, I must tell you something very important.
I don’t think there is a cure for this ailment. It’s not like it disappears, never to return. It will always be a familiar voice in the chorus of emotions, but it will never hold that damn baton again. Finally, after being shrunken to a brittle shell, I have broken free and there have been wonderful signs, inflating my sense of self. “Hey, I know this guy!”
A couple of weeks ago, I started singing again, in the car and on the stationary bike and anytime I feel like it, definitely in the shower. I now look forward to my sit every morning, instead of suffering through each minute. Don’t get me wrong, it is still hanging around, but there are no forthcoming invitations from yours truly.
About two months ago, I decided to see a therapist. I was looking for a way out of this mess, because I was now convinced I was getting out, but not without some solid guidance. Speaking of getting out, next for me is getting off these damn meds. I am only speaking for myself here and this is in no way an indictment of medication that can be crucial in putting a lid on this debilitating affliction.
While I know this is only my story, I think a lot of it is our story. We all have baggage from our past and for some of us it can just become too heavy at times. If you are looking for inspiration, it ain’t coming from the headlines, it only comes from within and that’s what this story is all about.
The love of another kept me from disappearing during all this.
Blessings to all of you.
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