Long dark field trip of the soul
It’s rolling around to be May again. For me it’s a month of change and emotional turmoil. It’s the month of Rites of Spring where I’ve always done a pile of personal work. It’s the month we lost Gilly. It’s the month (nearly) V came early. It has all sorts of powerful associations. And in the months leading up to it, I find my inner self knocked around.
Also, I have a moderate fear of heights. And a mild phobia regarding the New England Aquarium. They’re related. Here’s the story. So I’m at the aquarium with some adult. I think it was my dad, because of the emotions I remember, but it was definitely someone I didn’t trust to hold me up without dropping me. Maybe one of my uncles. I’m young, somewhere in the three to five range. For those not in the know the museum is mostly open space, with a tight spiral ramp up the middle around their giant reef tank, and a more leisurely ramp around the the edge passing numerous smaller tanks in the other direction. Under it all, the whole floor is another giant tank. There are heavy, high walled catwalks and balconies everywhere. The adult and I are on one of the catwalks and for some reason the adult decides to pick me up and lean me over the catwalk railing so I can see the floor tank. I panic. Sheer unadulterated panic. I am terrified that this person will drop me. At first I kick, then I realize that might make it worse. So I freeze. I’m terrified and hoping I won’t wind up in the tank below. I didn’t fall, but I had nightmares about that moment for years. In my dreams the floor tank was full of sharks. I went there again about 6 years ago with some friends and one of them had her purse snatched out of her baby stroller.
Today V is with her grandparents at the aquarium. May? Death? Stress? Loss? Fear? Clown fish? Do you see where this is going?
I’m wracked with anxiety that somehow V will disappear at the aquarium. And will NEVER COME BACK. I’m terrified that I’ll loose her forever. I have every confidence in her grandparents, but that doesn’t make the fear go away. So I just sit and work and breathe and smell soothing tea, knowing that she’s going to be just fine and that she’ll be home in a few more hours. I keep digging into my reserves of Cope.
But I’m glad she’s taking her first trip to the aquarium without me. I think my agitation would dampen her experience and I don’t want that.
But oy, the anxiety.
Also, I have a moderate fear of heights. And a mild phobia regarding the New England Aquarium. They’re related. Here’s the story. So I’m at the aquarium with some adult. I think it was my dad, because of the emotions I remember, but it was definitely someone I didn’t trust to hold me up without dropping me. Maybe one of my uncles. I’m young, somewhere in the three to five range. For those not in the know the museum is mostly open space, with a tight spiral ramp up the middle around their giant reef tank, and a more leisurely ramp around the the edge passing numerous smaller tanks in the other direction. Under it all, the whole floor is another giant tank. There are heavy, high walled catwalks and balconies everywhere. The adult and I are on one of the catwalks and for some reason the adult decides to pick me up and lean me over the catwalk railing so I can see the floor tank. I panic. Sheer unadulterated panic. I am terrified that this person will drop me. At first I kick, then I realize that might make it worse. So I freeze. I’m terrified and hoping I won’t wind up in the tank below. I didn’t fall, but I had nightmares about that moment for years. In my dreams the floor tank was full of sharks. I went there again about 6 years ago with some friends and one of them had her purse snatched out of her baby stroller.
Today V is with her grandparents at the aquarium. May? Death? Stress? Loss? Fear? Clown fish? Do you see where this is going?
I’m wracked with anxiety that somehow V will disappear at the aquarium. And will NEVER COME BACK. I’m terrified that I’ll loose her forever. I have every confidence in her grandparents, but that doesn’t make the fear go away. So I just sit and work and breathe and smell soothing tea, knowing that she’s going to be just fine and that she’ll be home in a few more hours. I keep digging into my reserves of Cope.
But I’m glad she’s taking her first trip to the aquarium without me. I think my agitation would dampen her experience and I don’t want that.
But oy, the anxiety.