Rerun

I think anxiety is summoned when we refuse to move on. When we are caught in the middle of an I Dream of Jeannie blink; in that tiny moment after she closes her eyes and before she nods her head. When we are trapped in the pause between this land and the next, in a fixed moment in time, in yet another predictable episode, and oh god, is this outfit inappropriate?

I’m not sure any of us wear anxiety well, but pink crop tops look especially unflattering on those of a certain age. And rose-colored veils are just sad. Surely by now, you see things as they are? Surely you know that no one is coming to free you – and that you don’t have to stay where you are?

But anxiety forgets. It’s conjured in the wee hours of the night, like an unrelenting theme song, pushing out all other possibilities. It fixates on a tired tune because at least it’s familiar. At least it can hum along.

Anxiety is desperate for syndication, refusing to accept that life goes on. It’s stuck in an old wish for rescue, trying to change its given time slot, and re-enacting the same impossible, ridiculous scenarios. It will give anything to be saved; saved from the unknown, saved from the next step, saved like time in a bottle, (Jim Croce, meet Barbara Eden). And even though it’s bored with its self, even though it’s the most painful thing in the world to watch, it definitely prefers reruns. Because at least it knows the ending, and the ending is that life never really has to begin.

And so it continues, with excellent staying power, to pace in small circles, muttering to a master it doesn’t really need. It tries to escape, only to return again and again to the same tightly-coiled space. With each reentry the world gets smaller, the air gets harder to breathe, and all the light that ever was gets corked and dusty on a shelf.

Anxiety happens when we fixate on a moment. Don’t forget that time keeps moving. That in the blink of an eye the scenery shifts, and new endings are written. This time you might actually escape in a weightless billow of blue. This time, life might actually go on.