I sat in an empty parking lot in the middle of the woods at Charlestown State Park. It was 32 degrees (yes I had a t-shirt on) and I cracked my window a few inches, opened the sunroof, leaned back in my car and closed my eyes. I began to breathe deeply. I was alone with my thoughts. That is often a very scary place to be for me.
This week I experienced three instances of minor anxiety attacks. The week threw a lot at me. I had two all-day meetings that I was asked to attend at the last minute, both involved an area I work closely with. This sent me down the fearful rabbit hole of a possible layoff coming soon as they were reviewing much of the work and responsibility I do for my area. Nothing confirmed or denied, just where my mind goes.
Next, my son’s truck quit working and I called to get a tow early on a Monday morning. I was contacting my mechanic, got confirmation he would look at the truck (Google says his shop was permanently closed) and planned to drive to meet the tow truck guy where Gavin left the truck. I had the keys and Gavin was in school, so it was up to me to go meet the tow truck. As I was trying to plan all of this out (or sort it out in my mind), my wife came over and wanted a kiss. A simple loving gesture, but it sent me deeper into my anxiety. For those not experiencing these type of ‘attacks,’ there are the moments when we (as suffers) want to be held and comforted, and then moments that we feel the world is closing in and a simple gesture of touch can send my mind spinning even more out of control. Imagine if you will trying to get you footing on mud or ice, holding something precious and breakable when you feel you have your footing and are almost stable then someone pushes you. That is what happens to me mentally during these attacks. I love my wife for putting up with me!
The third incident happened in the grocery store. We had left the grocery list in the car, and I was standing in the store trying to remember what I wrote down, and faced with hundreds of choices, and trying to plan meals for the week in my head. My brain was overload and began to shut down. This is when I am unable to make even the simplest decisions and have difficulty concentrating. It is so simple and stupid, but that is how my mind works.
As the week draws to a close I found myself sitting alone in the woods in a parking lot waiting for my friend. My hope at that moment was that my anxiety would float out of the sunroof and off into the universe. As the moments passed I took deep breaths and soon Mark arrived.
We headed down trail #1 at Charlestown State Park, a trail I had never been on. I could tell almost immediately that the challenge of releasing my anxiety in worry in these woods would be tough. The air was cool and crisp and the curved path before me snaked through the woods between lifeless trees and a carpet of rotten leaves. There were flashes of deep green moss on many of the trees and even a few ferns lined the path before me (see above).
Mark and I began our normal conversation and that quickly put me at ease. My eyes wandered as I noticed sinkholes, small caves, various trees of all sizes, but kept looking at the path beneath my feet. After my experience last week, I have lost confidence in my stability when walking on mud or over rocks. Like my mind, my feet and legs are not stable, and I need to build that confidence back up.
As we continued to move I found myself slowly doing the opposite, I was drawn to the sky above. I love trees, especially with the ‘puffy clouds’ as a backdrop. I pointed this out to Mark who stated “you don’t have to use technical terms” referring to my use of ‘puffy clouds’. What a knucklehead.
We soon approached a small section of large rocks with caves snaking through them. We made our way to them, I climbed around and in between to rocks, seeing what I could see. It was magnificent. Our path soon turned into an old road, no longer traversed by vehicles, only hikers like myself. To the left of us, we could see the 14-mile creek and the remnants of an old concrete bridge foundation. My photographic eye was not seeing things today. I took 11 shots total, but this hike was for my eyes, and more specifically my brain.
Mark and I continued to chat as we began slowly climbing out of the raven. We could as some points hear the call of some geese in the distance, and then for a few moments, there was complete stillness and quiet. I noticed at that moment I was at ease. Not thoughts traveling 300mph through my brain, and bombarding me from every direction. I was finally relaxed.
Mark and I eventually walked a wider path back to the cars. We wished each other good day, tentatively talked about possible plans to meet this week, and then we parted ways.
As I drove home ironically Cursed Diamond came on by The Black Crowes. So many of the lyrics to that song applied to my week. Especially these specific ones “I hate myself. Doesn’t everybody hate themselves? I scare myself. Then I tell myself it’s all in my mind. So I let the poison go. ‘Cause I always know it will be there for me.”
I will leave you with a quote from Thich Nhat Hann that summed up my day “Smile, breathe and go slowly.” That was my plan today and it worked. The woods took my anxiety and stress, and I am happy to move forward to the next challenge that awaits.
Until next time,
Tim
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