Wha Happened?

Well today was interesting. I got up with the intention to spend a good portion of the day writing. Um, yeah. That didn't really happen. Not that I didn't try, but for some reason, I was having a TON of anxiety.

It all started upon waking up. I was just about to start having an anxiety attack in my dream, and then I woke up abruptly. That always throws me for a loop when I do that. I hate that feeling. All sweaty, anxious, heart pounding... blah.

Once I got rolling and started to wake up though the initial panic subsided, but I still had some strange breathing issues. I've had it before so I wasn't so much scared as I was uncomfortable. It's hard to describe, but it's a feeling of like being bloated or full and not having a lot of air to breathe properly. When you do it sometimes feels short. I hadn't had anything to eat yet, so I knew it wasn't a case of eating too much. I figured it would go away soon, so I tried to ignore it.

Well, then the pounding heart started as I was reading. Thinking I better get moving around to chase off the bad adrenaline, I went downstairs to do laundry. Unfortunately coming back up the stairs had my heart racing overtime, and me being out of breath. This too has happened numerous times in the past so I didn't freak out, but it sure wasn't any fun to deal with.

I finally sat down to write, and I managed to get a few pages out, but nothing was flowing freely. It was a major struggle, and the whole time I was anxious, with my heart beating like crazy.

The really strange thing is, throughout all this I wasn't all that scared. So I don't know what really brought it on or made it stay. I guess it's good though that I didn't freak out, I knew what was going on, because all these symptoms have happened so many times in the past.

I swear this week has been so strange, I just keep getting a barrage of symptoms thrown at me each day, for no particular reason, and I have no choice but to deal with them.

I finally gave up on the writing front, and decided what I really needed was a way to relax. So I meditated. And it helped. I felt pretty darn good, by the end of the meditation, that I stuck around for round two. Things were going well, until the neighbors on the hill above us, starting shouting and blasting music. I tried to tune it out, but then they started constructing something with very loud banging noises that scared the crap out of me, in my meditative state. My heart started racing again, and I gave up.

The good news is, it did help get rid of the overall anxiety. I felt much better, and Matt and I decided to take Monkey for a walk. Half way round the block, we thought it would be a good time since it was warm and mosquito-less, to go out and work on the garden out back. So we hustled the poor cat back home without him getting a chance to eat at the salad bar down the street.

Right now we are in the process of making the garden, so it's just dirt at the moment. We need to dig it up and remove the rocks and despite my back injury I found a great energy release shoveling dirt into the wheelbarrow. It was what I needed to get rid of the last stupid bit of adrenalin that had built up. It felt good to use all my muscles and energy, but I had to give it up before long, because, despite the benefits to my mental health, it sure wasn't beneficial to my back. :(

Oh well. I managed to stay busy anyway, and swept the deck, watered the plants, and cleaned the pool. I always feel better when I do stuff like that, and sure enough, when I came inside, I had the urge to write again. I sat down and started where I left off, and lo and behold, the words flew more easily. It's not great, but it was much better than before and I managed to add a few key things to the dialogue which I totally struggle with.

it doesn't help that I've been reading a book by Hester Browne, who's style I love. The problem is now I totally feel the stuff I have written is rubbish, because I keep comparing it to hers or anybody else I'm reading for that matter.

When I do this, I lose my confidence that I can write. Today I had to limit myself on how much I read, because I don't want to fall into the pit of despair and think I can't finish this book. I will, and I can. It just may take awhile especially since I don't seem to have a complete plot. I wish it would come to me, but so far nada. Oh well that's a story for another time.

Right now, I'm gonna finish writing.