Monday, March 17, 2008

The Empty Space

I am about ready to fly out of my skin. Just exactly like drug of choice withdrawal. Only I am not coming down off anything. If I eat I feel temporarily anchored. I want to take a nap and can't sleep because of the internal pressure. Pressure from what you enquire? Who knows. I am jittery and jumpy and can't light on anything. So I am typing. After I get done here I am going to go and face "the flights." I will sit down and just feel the free floating anxiety. I will drain it to its dregs. No food, no reading, no t.v., no blogging, no cleaning, no entertaining the dog...nothing but me, the chair and the anxiety. I will tell you how it all works out.

Take care, Bea.

P.S. Poor old Nana dog turns out to be deaf and have rotten teeth. The neighbor girl is mashing her food and shouting endearments at her. Nana also bays like a hound dog. Good thing we have all sort of adopted her too....

3 comments:

ar said...

Now that IS a mighty challenge. Can't wait to read the outcome Bea.

Cindy said...

I, too, wait upon your update! The Nana story is precious. Mashing food and shouting endearments. I love it. I know well the feeling of the withdrawal, not even knowing what it's from. That free floating anxiety, urging me to do something, crave something.

Nory Roth said...

Being a fan of Mel Brooks, the theme to High Anxiety is worming its way through my brain. Withdrawal is never pretty, never fun. But coming out on the other side is such sweet victory!