A long hiatus

It has been over 6 years since my last post but I have the urge to start posting again, so here I am. In truth that itch has needed scratching for a very long time. How long? I can't say. The blogger who blogs here is not the same person in mind as blogged before. The reason for this is I had an accident and it has effected my memory badly. I have been told, via 2 MRI scans, That in itself is one of the reasons I have returned to blogging as I feel over time I can start to connect those pathways to access my former self. Then again maybe that is not important. I am me in the here and now. Who I was before really has no influence on who I am now as I cannot quite remember. Maybe, from a blogging perspective, that is a good thing. I will no doubt find out over time. I just feel engaging the brain again to raid the memory banks of what it will surrender will, in time, help me mentally. If not then to be perfectly honest I can't rue the loss of what I cannot recall.

I should start by explaining why I stopped blogging in the first place. That were for two reasons. I had basically no reason to keep going on with the blog based on my reasoning for starting it. I started it because I was bogged down with severe anxiety and panic attacks. It was a way to get the thoughts out my head and interact with like minded people. It helped for sure and led me also into the lives of others which were of great interest to read about. But my point of blogging was to get some sort of clarity of the mind. Before online journalling I filled a multitude of notepads in an attempt to unclutter my mind and make sense of it all. Blogging is a vast improvement as it brings interaction, friendship even, understanding, encouragement, feedback and even a kick up the backside if you wallow too much in self pity. Writing in a notepad reminds you of how alone you are. Interacting with people who have an understanding and/or are going through it themselves brings a much needed hope. Anxiety can be a very lonely and cruel place when you are surrounded by people who, understandably, don't understand. When I finally got myself anxiety, and panic, free I had no need to blog any more. Most of the people who I interacted with over those years had gone. Where? I don't know to be honest. 

Anyway at the risk of blabbing on too much I will wrap things up there. My anxiety problems have gone yet I still feel them bubbling under the surface waiting for any excuse to spill over. There is good reason for it I suppose. After years of being anxiety free I started experiencing it again last year for reasons I will get to. The threat remains so I assume the adrenaline is still dripping. The point of anxiety is to keep you on your toes against any threat. Ironically, as is usually the case, that threat is a self perpetuating cycle of fear against the feelings of fear. Again that is for another day. 

Archeologist

One in a million. What do you make of that? Its a good things, the majority would say. I am no different. But somewhere in the back of my mind cogs start to turn. One in a million. An estimated seven billion people on the planet. So really you are no different from seven thousand others. American million is different from a British million. Isn't it? Apparently not. Apparently its the same. Maybe its in relation to millionaire. Off my mind goes on a tangent, off my fingers go on google. At some point I have to step in and say: STOP! OK its stopped. But very soon it will be away processing again.

What this constant process does is tire the mind. Its constantly clogged with on-going processing which doesn't leave much CPU for anything else. Its also distracting. It can pull you in. You get dragged in there and pull out answers and ask more questions. Introspection.

Most people spend most of their time thinking at the surface level. I spend most of my own much deeper than that. If you think of the surface level being the real world then that is where most people live. Not me. I am the archeologist constantly digging under the surface looking for my next gem (of information). A metaphorical workaholic digging deeper and deeper below. Reside there and not in the real world makes the real world a strange scary place. Its an uncomfortable place. While on a dig for days or weeks or maybe even months I can find myself dragged back to the surface to participate in the real world with visits and going out and its difficult to adjust. I panic. I feel very uncomfortable. And as dark and lonely as the beneath is I crave to get back there. So much so I am overwhelmed by the urge to escape.

This is how I see it. But its not bad. Not if you can see it. And not if you believe there is a way that may lead to less digging and more time spend in the real world. Stop digging, you say. Yes. That is indeed it. It is though easier said than done. The concious effort to stop is a very temporary thing and its tiring in itself to keep doing that and to be honest near impossible to keep up. Mindfulness. That is I believe the way to do it. Actively being more mindful. Its something I need to try. Mindfulness and dealing with problems instead of letting them linger- something I have mentioned before. Two things. My resolutions for 2013. I hope I have made my last dig or at least now start to tunnel back up to the surface.