Anxiety is something I didn’t really think about years ago, but I can literally remember specific moments today. Sitting in the library at school. Having to attend a study hall I had ignored for half a semester. Always having someone in school who I felt wanted to have it out with me, sending me home with anxiety every night. Losing my focus in class because all I did all day long is worry about my status with peers, friends, and students in general. Always afraid I wasn’t doing the right thing as completely designed as a teacher in the classroom. Returning home on Sunday night from a weekend of stage productions that I felt I could not credit myself. The politics of today’s society. Some of these anxious moments are relatively mild by standard. Others were truly traumatizing but it was a slow and gradual process. Today my anxiety is related to my family and my finances and the world around me.

I started smoking pot several years ago. Seemed like the thing to do as society embraces it more. I used to smoke many years ago and I always felt it inspired my writing. I quit smoking on my own when I was around 25 because it made me anxious. I did it once in a while the next ten years but never to the extent I once did. I was too scared, and I felt it was no longer worth the anxiety. I experimented with pot again more recently because I wanted it to enhance my writing. As it turned out after a few weeks it was lending more to my anxiety than I could be comfortable with. I quit alcohol years ago, and I clearly could never go back. I don’t associate my addiction with alcohol with my experimentation with marijuana. I’m not willing to put myself in precarious positions with THC. I could care less about my safety when I drink alcohol so I am very happy I have a grip on that. It’s been 20 years now (no lauds necessary) and I am quite secure with my decision. I used to drink away my anxiety and it almost killed me. With marijuana it’s a different motive, but as it is, I struggle with it on my own, not by society’s terms.

This is just an introduction to my anxiety. It took me years to realize it was really something and not my imagination. I have a diagnosis that fits well with the throes of being scared in my own shoes. I think more today about how my thoughts do interfere with my happiness or peace in my life. It is a constant battle I must always be aware of happening in my life. So, this is a taste, more later.