There it is. That disquieting feeling in my gut when I look in the mirror and brush my hair. That feeling when I mix up my words or drive improperly. That feeling, worst of all, when simply getting out of bed or starting even a small task is all but impossible, and my routes of escape seem so clear and easy.
The feeling that I am no better than the worst traits of my parents, that I am doomed to repeat the habits (depression, addiction, etc.) that have brought my family nothing but suffering. And even though I know this feeling is a mental distortion, it sits with me heavily until I push past it.
A curious fear, isn’t it? That I am afraid of emulating the traits I dislike (and sometimes despise) about my parents? It must be an outcome of some sort from distorted thinking, that my thoughts emphasize the bad and forget the good. (Like the fact that after they separated, they both found love and community in different ways, and that my father discovered a whole new life for himself through his work.)
I grew up watching bad habits play out in others’ lives and witnessed their resulting consequences. I was afraid that I would become the same and found ways to run from it, inadvertently emulating what I feared. I’m not proud of the all of the time I’ve wasted by doing this or of the tasks that went neglected. I’m not proud of the fact that I could give my best work more often, or of the anxiety that I’ve fostered to the point that I’ve stunted my ability to form emotional, trust-based relationships. I am afraid of having another nervous breakdown, another panic attack, another falling domino towards spiraling out of control. Most of all, I am afraid of driving my friends and loved ones further away from me.
What keeps me going is the knowledge that I can and will get through this irrational and disordered thinking, that I am most certainly NOT the worst of my parents, and that I can improve one moment at a time. As past experience has shown me, whatever problem I have at a given moment is rarely as bad or as hard as it seems.
At any moment, I can turn off the Internet, set aside my food, stop, and breathe for a bit. Return to my own skin for a bit, remember who Cinnia is, and get moving again.
Once I start up my momentum, I feel almost unstoppable. I get away from those dark thoughts and unhealthy habits and feel so incredibly like my best self that it’s hard to believe that this other person lived inside me for awhile and was so unhappy.
I’m not sure there’s any trick or anything to preventing the fear (and habits) from ever returning, but recognizing its source, flaws, and countermeasures is incredibly powerful for me.