Just Write {58}

October 22, 2012

I’ve probably had too much coffee.

I was walking around the bedroom, our bedroom, stepping over dirty clothes and wondering why I went in there. I decided to go down and switch the laundry because the laundry on the floor reminded me. I did that, but I forgot to take the laundry from the floor with me.

There’s an anxious pit in my stomach and I’ve never known life without that. Sometimes I remember to stop and ask it why it’s there and much of the time there’s no reason. It just is. Most of the time, I forget about it because it’s all I know. I don’t know what peaceful insides feel like. Please don’t tell me to meditate or pray or take breaks or think differently. I know and do those things, sometimes, and I don’t know, it’s hard to figure and then get a part of yourself out while the days and world are spinning so fast.

It goes away, I notice, for just a second here and there, like when I look at my sleeping children or watch the chickens pecking and scratching. I always notice that it’s gone because it feels so different and then the noticing makes it come back. I’m sure that’s ironic or something.

Last night, I rocked Elsie and that’s getting so short. She points at her crib within a couple of minutes, wanting to get in it for the night. It’s amazing, how far we’ve come. Now I want to rock her longer. I told myself to just sit in the quiet with her and hold her close in these last times and to stay aware of my thoughts. To watch them. To pay attention to what I think, to keep it in check. Then I realized that I do that all the time. It’s part of the pit in my stomach, always thinking about my thinking. So aware. So observant.

Oh look at how fast I change the subject, I think, about my thinking. Oh look at how many things I can think about in less than a minute. I can’t stay on task. So I thought about how much healing I still need and wondered why I don’t just work through some of the things that still sit around in inside me like monsters in the dark. I don’t even know if all of them are real anymore, but there I was trying to think about them because I figure it has to hurt but probably less then avoiding them for too long. Then my mind wandered and Elsie started to point to the crib and I started to think about what I needed to do before going to bed, for the next day. My thoughts are like me, walking around the house and into a room, stepping over the dirty laundry and leaving it there.

Not for good, just for now. To go do something else.


This is the 58th installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.} I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page, and please don’t link to posts that are not written in the spirit of capturing moments–like lists or sponsored posts. Then please link back to this post in your post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in. (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.)

Also. Please take a moment to visit someone else who has linked up! It’s a really good way to meet new writers and get inspired by the meaning behind their moments. Word? Thank you!


Marta October 22, 2012 at 7:52 pm

I know what you mean. Not knowing anything else. Sometimes I think if I got rid of those monsters in the dark who would I be? I’ve only known myself this way.
Marta recently posted..That Time of Year (Giveaway!)

Leslie October 22, 2012 at 8:30 pm

I love this, especially because I know that anxiety, too. And you’re right, it just is.

HopefulLeigh October 22, 2012 at 9:09 pm

Thank you for letting us glimpse inside your thought process, Heather. You express yourself so beautifully and tenderly here.
HopefulLeigh recently posted..Take the Picture, Send the Email

tracey October 23, 2012 at 6:45 am

I think the most amazing thing about people is how similar we all are even though we all feel so alone and weird. But most of us wouldn’t have thought of the comparison to dirty laundry that gets walked over. That was pretty cool, Heather.
tracey recently posted..Just Writing…

Shannon October 23, 2012 at 7:31 am

There are many times when I wish that I could turn off my brain for a few minutes and quiet the noise. I guess that is part of being human – thinking about what is next. Sometimes I envy my dog’s ability to just be.
Shannon recently posted..Ten

Amy @ Never-True Tales October 23, 2012 at 7:51 am

Oh friend. I know that pit in the stomach well. It’s so hard (though sometimes dangerously easy?) to drown out, isn’t it?
Amy @ Never-True Tales recently posted..If you’re happy, you’ll know it

Tracy October 23, 2012 at 9:04 am

Get out of my head! I’m constantly stealing glances at others wondering if their brain works the same way mine does- if they’re as “off” and fuzzy and distracted as I am pretty much all the time. You nailed it here.

Kathy Morelli, LPC (@KathyAMorelli) October 23, 2012 at 9:16 am

Hi – Funny how the time goes so fast, our children grow so fast, And the times we were impatient with slowly vanish and parts of us long for that time again.
Kathy Morelli, LPC (@KathyAMorelli) recently posted..Study: Practicing Prenatal Yoga Improves Maternal Comfort, Reduces Length of Labor

Elaine October 23, 2012 at 9:26 am

I wish their was a magic wand to help us quiet our minds.

It is amazing to me that you wrote about this today because I was having similar “feelings” this morning. Jumbled up and having so many things that need to get done and that I need to remember. I guess it is just part of the stage of life we are in. And the healing…. working on that too…
Elaine recently posted..A Compromise

grace October 23, 2012 at 9:48 am

so real. always … i love your writing.
grace recently posted..white board diaries, vol. 3

Rachael October 23, 2012 at 10:07 am

No pit in my stomach. My anxiety feels like a general disorder of the insides, as though everything in me is broken and in the wrong place. And sometimes it feels like a knife in the heart. I wonder why different people experience their anxiety so differently, physically.
Rachael recently posted..Right Here

Julia October 23, 2012 at 10:42 am

I understand this so very much. If only there was a way to make time and our minds stay still for a moment in the midst of life’s chaos.
Julia recently posted..When A Mommy Heart Breaks

Ann October 23, 2012 at 11:43 am

My thoughts are like me, walking around the house and into a room, stepping over the dirty laundry and leaving it there.

Ann recently posted..The Grade School Columnist interviews YOU for a change

shayla October 23, 2012 at 12:02 pm

this was a dreamy post for me. dreamy, in the sense that i know this feeling – the pit in your stomach – thinking about thoughts – i know it all too well.

i know it’s a part of me and i just have to sit with it, like you do and no meditation or praying or for me, no running or yogaing can make it all-together go away.

part of it for me comes from a new relationship. i’m all anxious and trying to take it slow when my heart wants to pour itself out all while staying grounded. so, i just remember to breathe and do what i can.

once again, what a lovely thing the interwebs are. making me feel less misunderstood. thank you!

Jennifer October 23, 2012 at 1:12 pm

Oh gosh I get this. The overthinking, worrying, planning, always wondering, remembering… It seems like it never stops, but when I notice it has stopped it starts again. The noticing is like a knock at the door in my mind to bring my attention back to the thinking. The only thing that helps me is reading. That is when my brain focuses on the pretend world and my thoughts settle back and wait for me to be finished.
Jennifer recently posted..The understanding

Amanda October 26, 2012 at 3:37 pm

Oh, yes… mine is like a tightness in my heart, like I can’t breathe in fully. I’ve just started dealing with anxiety since the birth of my second, and I’m so tired of it. Thank you for putting yours into words, and making me feel less alone in this…

Chrissy October 29, 2012 at 2:34 pm

Oh my….I have been reading your words for so long and don’t often comment, but just found myself lost in this today. Thank you. There are these internal spaces for me that just sit agitated, scratching at the doors, wanting to get out. And yes, they are there, somewhere between the laundry basket and the bedroom door….beautiful. XO

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