I've lived much of my life in a state of almost perpetual dread. I didn't think anything else was possible for me. Every class, shift, table, drive, test, visit, restaurant, discussion, new outing...nearly everything, even what I loved, set my heart wild and twisted me in chains, sometimes days in advance. Some days, it was like someone pouring hot gravel into my abdomen.
Recently, I was preparing for a parent-teacher conference. I felt fine talking to Oliver's teacher every morning, but the relative formality along with the difficult news I was expecting brought on the dread. But for perhaps the first time, I forced myself to look past the meeting. How would I feel when it was over? I might feel sad, worried, or overwhelmed, but I'd also feel relief, and I'd have some time to myself in sight. Now, I tell myself, "I'll feel better when this is over," or some such hopeful thought.
Sometimes, too much comes at me at once, and I can't see a path. My inner voice is silent, and I know I'm alone. But I can seek out companionship. I can write my way through. I'm not wired for dread alone.
