Through the Rapids

I’m dragging myself here—hand to wrist, yanking, sitting myself down. To write.

I don’t want to. I don’t quite know why.

I think I’m miserable, but I’m skeptical of how true that is. There’s a bigness, a drama to my feelings that I don’t fully understand. Does the rotisserie chicken and Ritz cracker casserole that didn’t measure up to what I’d imagined have something to do with it? Or was Evelyn’s requests for me to play that got pushed aside more often than not the culprit? Or is it just that I feel like I just plain suck?

Yeah. That last one. That might be it.

I’m hammering on myself, dropping through trap doors into worries and worst-case scenarios, believing every one of them. Like an insect tangled in a spider’s web, the longer I struggle, the more stuck I become.

Figuring this was no way to watch the movie Sea Beast with Dave and Evelyn, I took myself to the bathtub. Of course, I feel guilty about it. I should be present no matter what. I’m making a big deal out of nothing. The self-judgment piles on.

But noticing the war within, I’m hopeful. Removing myself, getting honest, bringing in a flicker of compassion—maybe that’s my way out of this labyrinth.

Rabbit holes, mental spirals, mind mazes—we all have them. And yet, when I’m in one, I feel far from myself, far from knowing I’m okay, far from remembering everything is alright.

I fight for my mental health. The moment I saw the resurgence of worry and self-deprecating thoughts, I told Dave. But when that didn’t stop it I stepped away from the movie, guilty but determined. And now, as I notice my heartbeat at a normal rhythm and the storm clouds parting like The Simpsons intro, I realize I am okay.

What a wild ride it is to be human, huh? And how okay it is to let myself ride the rapids, to feel out of control, to get sucked into an eddy, water splashing in my face—then kick and claw with everything in me to find calm waters again.

I don’t have any wise words or lessons tonight. Just gratitude—for this bath, for writing, for you.

And for me.

Thanks, me.

Love,
Jaclynn