Staving off the Panic

Bad week. I can feel the panic start to fill my lungs. Not a full-blown panic attack. My heart heart is normal. My palms aren't sweaty. But my lungs feel constricted. I don't really want to get out of bed. Like a Jane Austen heroine, I'm trying to keep up a good face as I come face to face with the realization that no one loves me and I will die alone.

Of course, intellectually, I know the first half isn't the least bit true and the second half hopefully won't be and it is a long way off (hopefully).

But it makes me aware of what it is I've been so frantically avoiding. When I wrote I was "addicted to dating"--it was my fear of this feeling.

I'm a Scorpio--incredibly passionate, but also there are times I just freeze. I ignore my emotions. Run, run far away. Don't let myself see anything. For years at a time. I do not want to go there ever again.

I've avoided going back on-line to find someone else for days now (for me, this is hard). I need to face this. I can't use men, even as much as I enjoy being with them, as a way to stave off the panic. That isn't the basis of anything good.

And I finally figured out the source of my panic: I'm going to die. Not this year, or next, or this decade, or next. But I'm probably about halfway through my life. I'm not young anymore. This year, I started to put moisturizer on every day because I now have lines on my face. Intellectually, I've always known I would die someday. But I didn't really.

The funny thing is, realizing the source of my panic makes my dating obsession a little more OK. I think humanity has often used sex to avoid dealing with our own mortality. If I were using it to avoid dealing with something else, I'd need to confront that and deal with it. But how much do I need to face my fear of my own death? How much do I need to deal with it?

I have regrets, though. I never really was young. I can't be now, and I never will be. I never was pretty till the last few years, and I only have a couple years left of that. I didn't learn how to flirt. I got a doctorate when other girls got boyfriends. I love my work. But I don't want that to be all of me. I want a do-over! I want to go be young and get to be skinny and confident this time! I hate that this is the only life I get (at least that's what I think). I wish I believed in God or reincarnation, or something. But I don't.

And I feel like I get a choice--I can focus on finishing my book or try to find someone to decide whether I want a family or not. Try to make a very small impact on a large scale or a large impact on a small scale. But, I have to focus my energy and let the other go, at least for now (if it is my book) or forever (if it is wanting a family). I don't even want a family--I just want to make that choice with someone. I'm leaning towards the latter. I wish I had the discipline to do both.