Walking into a storm

It’s difficult to remember sometimes, but it is best to remain calm when you are walking into a storm.

Some people, I’ve come to understand, are riddled with anxiety under most circumstances.  They will not remember what you talked about last time, because… oh my GOD!!!  You cannot imagine what it’s like to live with constant anxiety, it has got to be the worst thing out there.  I’m sure I can only begin to imagine it, only because I’m one of those people who take imagination seriously, seriously enough to practice it regularly.   I’ve clung, you might say, to a childish refusal to lose the ability every kid has to wonder about mysterious or amazing things and picture the missing parts.

 The walls in your house are constantly threatening you, they are not straight, they could fall, causing a terrible, agonizing death of broken bones and slow suffocation.  There are a million things to do, crucial protective things that need to be done, and secrets also, terrible shameful ones that can crush you in an instant, but the real threat is that you can only remember to be aware of five or six of these key things at a time.  But there are literally a million!  So many more than can ever be controlled because they can’t even be named! And, of course, it’s the ones you forget that will bite you the hardest, bite you to death, with razor sharp teeth, row upon row of them.

 “We had this conversation last time,” you might say, seeking to avoid going through the whole thing from the beginning,  finding it hard to imagine all that talk was for nothing last time.  Tbe anxious person will say you’re mistaken, eyes looking past you at an approaching catastrophe possibly just past your shoulder.  You know, the whole thing can come tumbling down in a rage of fire and rocks, it happens all the time, but, actually, it’s very late and I have to go now, I should have gone an hour ago, I can’t believe I’m still here!  The Bible may be bullshit, metaphor, whatever you want to call it, but the torments described in it are very real.   Disbelieve at your peril.   Put that pen back exactly where you got it from, it belongs next to the red one.  The RED ONE!   Next to the fucking RED ONE, do I have to explain every…. Oh, my God!  Never mind!   Just give it to me, give it to me, give me the pen, the pen, give me the goddamned pen!

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