If the system should become flooded with an unsettling substance then it stands to reason that this nuisance needs flushed out. In my mind its like the handle on the cistern- one big yank and whoosh! its gone. If not then all these foreign bodies just linger around unspent poking away for attention and running about manically like clog-wearing speed freaks at a 200 beat per minute techno rave on laminate flooring. This is what I feel is happening at the moment as I bob up and down feeling unsteadily in myself because my feet are not grounded to the floor. Unspent numerous chemicals I called upon unwittingly. Unspent, still partying.
These little seeds of demon juice are like latent tormentors abiding their time to strike at the right moment through the mind. The mind is already on early alarm setting going off whenever it can to tell me the drives that put me in this place are soon back on the horizon and if I thought I couldn't cope last time just how am I going to cope this time. The mind prompts me to rename the blog this blog with the a subheading to "Forever Anxious: My one hour privilege on the D-wing PC from Arkham Asylum. When the other day I was feeling incredibly jittery and agitated my mind decided that this old cocktail of turmoil was missing a little special ingredient and so sprinkled a little 'imagine though what it would be like with all this intense feeling driving you mad but then from some unforeseen force you became both blind and deaf. What then? You wouldn't be dead. You would still be very much alive but stuck with all this intense discomfort without being able to communicate it to anyone or even get the support in return. It would be a living hell. It would be undead anxiety hell. But no, wait. Lets take it further. Imagine you came through all that. Beat it all. Finally knocked this thing on the head and freed yourself. What then? Who would know? You couldn't tell anyone and if they did know they couldn't communicate it to you...". The mind would make an inquisitor feel mightily inadequate in its sadism when it gets a bone to shake. Quite the best.
There is a flush which some call 'the relaxation response', others call 'the parasympathetic nervous system' and others still make up there own names. Regardless it is the same thing. Its a feeling from high terror to the come down of relief. Its a calming. Its the brandy of novels when someone has had a shock. Its the haystack on the back of a cart mysteriously appearing as our hero jumps from the castle turrt to his doom and instead of a pavement pizza we find him even more mysteriously unearthing a young wench with said cart of hay.
It is though the thing everyone has felt countless times. Its getting up in the middle of the night assuming in the dark that your wife is still out for the count somewhere among that inkiness and then stumbling down the hall feeling for the bathroom light switch then somehow flicking it on by chance to find a figure sitting there in front of you where there should be none. Momentary panic to the level of terror and then quickly relief as reality kicks in- the flush. We've all experienced it. No residual adrenaline because its flushed almost as soon as its released.
All good. Everything works as it should. But what happens if the flush doesn't work? What if the fear does not reach a head or the relief is not found? In these cases there is the slow steady drip which mounts and mounts but never has the chance to be flushed because its never gets the chance to peak in a slow drip. And alternatively sometimes the flush just doesn't work. I look over recent panic and see its just not been happening for me. When I should be feeling the relief wash over me as the chemicals are washed out I just get nothing but a continuing high level of anxiety- yes, the school runs again. It makes me wonder whether the body just gets used to being in that state with that level of toxins and therefore sees no need for the good response to kick in.
This is what has kept me back from testing out my theory. My theory is that I should go and place myself right into panic and keep going and then when it is impossible to deal with escape in full flight like the UK and US towards a country in civil war abundant in oil and hope that I can get the flush to kick in. But I am held back because recently it has not kicked in and I would be left with more problems than I started with. Much like our old flusher which you have to speed yank to work and we still have not fixed yet. Much blushing of flushing admission there that the kids don't know how to flush a toilet- note to self to get that fixed, not me but someone who knows how to. Its been a while since I had a flush, back to anxiety, and so I am in a chemically induced state where no amount of breathing exercises or relaxation techniques are going to buy be some peace. I'm constantly in the state of boxer before the big fight or runner before the big race or even champion musical statues extraordinaire. Never at best while the chemicals flow freely.
But all this thinking came about from an incident 3 months ago. I walked my wife over to her work for a meeting with the boy but found it difficult so only went halfway. A mixture of fatigue and anxiety from fatigue despite in recent past walks 10 times as far. I was glad to be heading home when suddenly as I neared the door I was hit with flashback. In my mind's eye I saw me taking the boy out the door with my wife following behind, impatient bugger that I am I just wanted to be moving because my wife takes an eternity to shift, then I remember her locking up and taking the keys. So there I was locked out the house and in no fit state to walk over to my wife's work to try to get her out of a meeting. It was despair. To cut a long story short she appeared shortly after with the keys in hand and I was filled with a gratifying wash of relief- the flush. Where I struggled to walk halfway to my wife's work just 10 minutes earlier I now walked her right over and could have walked back and forth many times. The relief just cleaned out my system and freed me up. I needed the flush as I need it now. It took away all the bad things, cleaned it out like a big bottle of Mr Muscle.
Anyways I'm still in two minds. I know my comfort zone and know I will start to panic as I move out of it. I know how it will intensify with every step thereafter. Frustration though is building up in me again as well as a need to test out this theory with the proviso that if no big heavenly hand yanks the handle I have the small,er! big, print advising above why that may happen. The urge though is there to just do it. I'd do it right now if the streets were not full of social vampires of a Friday night like the flock of unread neds drinking from what my quick glance registered two bottles of Buckie- my wife and kids are catholic and this is what the god's Representatives on earth are feeding the docile in their masses and a box of Tennents lager I was met with as I stepped out the door tonight sitting on the doors of a church out of their faces. You have to laugh or you would go crazy.
It might just be that is what I have to do, or at least try, is to try running into this thing once again. I started by saying that is pointless but if I hit that relief switch then bingo- all my ills are eased. Because I think it has to be out of the ordinary panic to get the flush to kick in. I think the normal panic as bad as it is just doesn't bring it to the boil in the required fashion that there is any relief from getting out of it. So its something I am mulling over for now. The signs are good though. Licked finger up to the wind, a look of contemplation and then a big headlong run into panic at full flight and see where it takes me.
