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.

Into the Deep

I must believe in astrology, because if part of me didn't find it useful, I wouldn't follow it. Intellectually, I doubt it, but it just seems right an awful lot of the time.

And astrologically speaking, the full moon in my opposite sign means I'm having a hard time: "arguments are raging, conflicts are emerging, stressful situations are arising and misunderstandings keep taking place. It is also why you feel so emotionally vulnerable - and why secretly, deep down within, you feel fearful" (Jonathan Cainer, http://www.bubble.com/).

Well, I'm glad there's a good reason that I feel like hell. I was in the park yesterday, walking and looking down at the city, and I just burst into tears. I could have stopped myself. I've always been good at keeping up the public persona, but it didn't feel worth it. I'm tired of manipulating my emotions, tired of the gaping chasm between my public persona and who I am inside, tired of spending so much energy to protect my vulnerabilities. I did find a nook with privacy, but it surprised me that I just cried in public like that. I hope that isn't the first step towards tinfoil haberdashery, but I guess if that's where I end up being happy, I'll be fine with it by the time I make that choice. I'd rather live fully right now than spend so much energy on trying to stay within other people's definitions of normal.

What have I learned from this roller-coaster ride? Nothing. If I had to do it all over again, I'd do it exactly the same way. And so much. I've begun to actually feel (and not just know) that my biggest weaknesses are some of the best things I've got to offer. I've learned that I won't compromise on human connection. I can compromise on a ton of stuff that isn't essential, but truly connecting with another person, and letting him see who you really are is magical. Terrifying as all hell, but worth risking for, every single time. I've started to connect with people better--I don't multi-task when someone comes in my office to ask me a question. I actually stop what I'm doing and give them my full attention and work is more joyous and present because of it.

I would love to not need another AFOG (Another Fucking Opportunity for Growth), but, fundamentally, I don't believe we get to pick that easily. We have a choice: go deeper or numb out. We don't get to be static.

I spent a lot of energy (and pills) in the last decade trying to feel happy. I can manipulate my emotions pretty easily. Even though I've been off the SSRIs for 3 years, I still can on a short-term level--I have 'happy lists' on my iPod. I can choose what to think about, control my thoughts to be content, at least on a surface level. This seems like the ideal for a Jane Austen heroine, but it wasn't working for me; it kept me on a more superficial level and didn't allow me the level of connection for which I yearn . Not that I need to involve everyone in my own personal melodrama, but I probably need to allow myself to go into it and not view it only as a sign of weakness.

I'm proud of myself for not running away from the pain. It is really hard for me, but I am allowing myself to feel, and I believe I can only connect with another person as deeply as I feel the pain of loss.