For many years, maybe three-fourths of my life, I have experienced these feelings of impending doom - something I should be doing, something I haven't done, something I did wrong will come tumbling forward and I will be a puddle of despair of entirely my own making. These feelings come over me at random times, often in bed when falling asleep, sometimes when out having a good time and a quiet moment crosses which allows that spidery web of distress envelop my gut and shake it, hard.
Last night I had it again. Greg and I had just gone to hear Jay Wiseman give a presentation on Immobilizing Bondage which largely was god awful. We were tearing it apart, having fun in our more polymorphous view of the world and thus more correct view versus his limited heterosexist and sexist style. A moment of satisfied silence was suddenly overtaken be this sense that I shouldn't be having fun, that my life should have more form, that I should be a good little societal mole and finally act like the grown up I imagined from time to time when I was young.
Many years ago when I first was on anti-depressants the impending doom sensation disappeared and the idea that I was not in fact being presentient was incredibly liberating. When I was not on my happy pills it was useful thing to remember that it was simply my brain misfiring and only appearing cruel or psychic. It is not surprising that I am having waves of this now giving I am not following any particular model, watching my donated pennies until I can form my own cash flow. Largely I am on my own schedule, I am not responsible in a day to day way for anyone for the first time in years and years. It feels so liberating. I am going simply by my rhythm and working not to judge myself for it. Tomorrow night I will see a number of my family for the first time in five years. What will I tell them? Am I afraid of their judgement? Could I view it instead that I am being brave, that they would find what I am doing scary and somewhere deep inside they could be in awe of me? I'm not sure. In truth their reaction will probably be a mix of worry that my life has no form and a little wistful that they are not, maybe have never, been in this place.
This morning Greg and I talked some more about the gut shaking I get. He offered that maybe I could try to find a way to turn it into something constructive, creative, or other wise work this sensation into a positive. From there we talked a bit about what my plans are, where my focus is in terms of the next short and intermediate steps in my path. Encouraging noises were made on his part, and I, in turn, realized I had some shape, solid ideas about where and how I wanted to go but that I was also keeping some things open ended since there are many unknowns that are only somewhat in my control. I will continue to take my life in my hands, chart my own waters, and know that I have many good friends to visit with, help guide me, and generally love me well through thes travels.