pressure's rising

The pressure's rising,
weight on my chest grows heavier.
It becomes harder to breathe,
as the burning continues to mount.
The pull to the old way is strong,
disconnecting to save what self there is,
silent withdrawal leads to numbness.
Recounting events to those were there before, detached.
Suffocating with the urge to scream,
thrashing as if underwater and gasping for air.


Keeping my head above water lately, but working hard to not fall into old dynamics.  The efforts I have been making for the last few months to focus on myself are being tested.  Told that what I am doing is not enough--I recoil and back away in an effort to recollect. The topics of anxiety and meditation were common themes in my conference sessions today--practiced loving kindness in my session this morning.  And this afternoon, it was suggested by the facilitator that I needed some physical contact after I described the pressure in my chest, as part of a group exercise.  This resonated with me.  Grounding.  Attempting to sit in quiet meditation over the last few weeks, has been more difficult with my increased level of anxiety.  Distracted.  I manage the exercises in increments, the best I can do.  Process not perfection as I search for connection having pushed away too hard.

the road I am on

In my session today about the use of motivational interviewing in groups, our final exercise was to select a picture from a stack of photographs that represented our life at this time.  We then used the images as a starting point for the small group we were in to practice engaging people through motivational interviewing.  This was my picture.  I selected it because of the spiritual and emotional journey I have been on for the last year and a half. While it looks dark and scary, what you cannot see from the picture (of a picture), is that there is light at the end of the precarious path.  In fact, behind that door (?) blocking the exit, the sun is out.  But, you have to look closely, or you get caught up in the harsh angles and chasms between each of the cross beams. I am not yet to that other side.  In fact, I find myself parellized at the entrance by the fear of falling into the dark spaces between each step.  So, have been just standing there looking--sizing up whether I will be able to make the necessary jumps between each rung. 

As such, I am grateful that I am starting to push myself.  To be consciously making an effort to sit with myself (something I avoid like high heels and dresses--think, when was the last time you saw me in either of THOSE).  This journey has not, nor will it be easy--but, I know that I am not alone nor should I be as I make my way (finally, I am starting to get it).