psychology

Listening In On The Anxiety

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Yesterday, I went for a long walk through Mount Tabor Park before it would start raining. It was finally a cooler fall morning and this was to be my workout for the day, so I made a point of enjoying it. I wore my favorite tweed vest combo, my favorite shawl, grabbed my walking stick and just did my Hobbit thing.

I made sure to bring my headphones with me in case I wanted to listen to music or a podcast on the walk, but I didn’t think I would. I haven’t lately, and not for lack of quality in my favorite podcasts. (Seriously, check out Old Gods of Appalachia, especially as we get toward Halloween here in the states.)

Instead, as I mentioned in my last post, I’ve had the time and bandwidth to get more curious about my inner life- how and why my mind does what it does. Historically I’ve used podcasts deliberately to blot out intrusive thoughts, break the anxiety spirals and derail rumination funks that can sap my focus and energy. In other words, they put someone else’s voice in my head when I can’t bear the sound of my own anymore.

They are still excellent for that, but lately I’ve had the energy to explore the “bad neighborhood” parts of my brain and figure out what’s going on in there.

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Making Progress

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I’m sitting at the bar at Toms for one of the first really autumnal days after a bit of a heat wave, just in time for Casey to fix me a Pork Roll, Egg, and Cheese sandwich- then chase it with a stout when they start pouring at noon.

I actually ate breakfast at 7am, but then I successfully ran it off, and proceeded to walk the thirty minutes out here for my Hobbitesque “second breakfast.” Of all the ways to refuel after a run, the PREC is a solid winner.

I’m slowly getting back into my good habits- I’m back to working out daily, eating better/less/smarter, and slimming down a bit. It’s easier to make progress than it has been in a while, and it’s because I have the freedom to slow down, take stock, and learn to accept.

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The EMT In The Kitchen

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First responders have a saying- “Being a first responder leaves you with two kinds of stories- ones you don’t want to tell, and ones others don’t want to hear.” It also leaves you with a LOT of quirks and habits that only other folks who’ve been there will notice.

A friend claimed she thought I had PTSD from my time as an EMT. I personally don’t think I do. I go to a therapist, and it’s never once come up. For a brief time after a particularly bad situation in 2005, I definitely had flashbacks and triggers- but not since. At least, nothing more than what Anxiety gets me to ruminate on.

I simply don’t think I saw enough stuff long enough to give me honest-to-God PTSD. I know it doesn’t necessarily take repetitive or long-term exposure to trauma to cause PTSD, but I can honestly count on one hand the number of calls I’d been on that might be considered “traumatic.” If anything, most of them were of the “ok, you won’t believe this shit” genre of anecdote. There are no Misery Olympics and I wouldn’t want a medal if there were.

What I think being an EMT did leave me with were a couple of trained behaviors and responses that others would find odd- especially in the kitchen.

Photo by Artem Saranin
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The Kitchen Monk- Presence and Pie Crust

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What does it mean to be present? Not just physically but mentally? Spiritually? It doesn’t just mean being in a particular place, like during roll call at school. For yourself in your own life, no one’s checking off an attendance list.

We owe it to ourselves to stay present and keep ourselves aware of just who, what, and where we are if we want to live not just good lives but deliberate ones.

There’s just something soothing and beautiful about the folded flaky layers of handmade pie dough.
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