Like most things in life, we move in cycles. Waxing and waning, we move from place to place, person to person, and then wake up and do it all over again. I find this cyclical movement comforting.
Â
Some days, though, I feel like I’m on a Ferris wheel, stuck at the top with no sign of coming down. The passenger car I’m sitting in rocks and I know I’m going to fall if I don’t really work to hold on. The wild, animalistic feeling bubbling up in my throat is so familiar.
Â
This week, like many weeks I have had in my life, has been a struggle for me. I chalk mine up to a chemically imbalanced brain, which just needs a little time and medicinal assistance to help the gears grind and begin to start moving again. Most of the time, I have single moments, but the moments begin to stretch and take over my days, and the days to weeks before I can step back and push the wheel to start rolling again.
Â
It started this week with a feeling. A pit in my stomach, a “You don’t belong here” kind of mood. I struggle with that feeling frequently. I feel ostracized and unwelcome in most situations. I am an outsider, a viewer, the sole member of my own exclusive club.
Â
It’s difficult when my anxiety is based in a fear of being unwelcome, unwanted, unloved. The monster of inadequacy circles me in the water. I struggle to keep my head above the roiling foam, to feel whole and worthy again, but my mind churns and bubbles up thoughts of self-hatred and certain demise. I cough and sputter as the water trickles into my lungs while I lay in bed, trying to sleep, my brain playing slide show clips of every moment of failure and pain I’ve ever experienced.
Â
I eat well. I sleep. I exercise. I socialize. I push everyday to do the most basic of tasks and to try and feel the same sense of accomplishment and achievement as the strong women around me. I try, and try, and try, but always feel like I fall short.
Â
But then, like right now, I stop. I think. I listen. I feel the warmth returning to my limbs and the days seem full of promise again. I stretch and smile. The cycle is beginning again, the water is receding with the changing of the tides, and I can wade in the peaceful sea. The Ferris wheel starts to move again, and suddenly I’m enjoying the view.
Â