Of finches and fear

Anxiety is a funny thing. The best way I can describe it is this. Anxiety is a collection of words in your head. Jumbled words. Some of them fit together well,and make sentences and pictures that wrap around your chest in a way that stops you in your tracks, gasping for air. Others are words that don’t match with much of anything, but they keep trying. And so the words that have no match fly around and around in your head like finches in a cage, never really settling anywhere for very long. A jittery driving force that drains you of energy and leaves you too tired too function well but not tired enough tosleep or relax.

I am not fond of putting the words that do have a match to paper. I don’t like how people judge. How they take them and turn them, twist things to fit their view of the world and leave you shattered and still in the aftermath. And so I stay quiet.

It is New Years Eve. For those of you who understand and struggle with anxiety for whatever reason, as we all do one time or another, I wish you a new year filled with opportunities to speak your matching words. And lots of branches for your finches to settle.

It’s been too lung.

I have been going to weekly acupuncture sessions for nearly 3 years now. And because my acupuncturist thinks that my brain is actually fairly functional and worthy of input and information, he teaches me a lot about Traditional Chinese Medicine. This makes him a very cool dude. 

One of the things I have learned is that grief, in TCM, tends to affect the lungs. Especially unresolved, long standing grief. Let me tell you, have I noticed that to be a truth or what! And in that spirit, this blog will be a place where things will end up from now on, instead of just holding things in and letting them swirl around in my head and possibly settling in my lungs. Because then I would have to cough it all up later. And that is just gross. 

So. Hi! Thanks for stopping by. If you’re cool with honesty and being real, I am sure this will be a decent read. Word of caution, my husband frequently refers to my verbal expression as “crap that comes out of your mouth”. Don’t worry, he used to be married to someone with mental health issues, and as a result he seems to have nearly completely lost his ability to tolerate the vocal sounds of the female  he cohabitates with, unless of course these vocal sounds occur between the sheets.   I have decided that I could take offense to that, or I can just go ahead and share my crap with the world, where I am sure there must be someone with a fetish for it. Or something. 

Let’s do this thing. Welcome.