To Find

Last night I had a paranoid attack. If it has any specific meaning at all. But for me it was quite literal - I was okay, probably a bit bored, then suddenly - BAM! - some landmines in my mind exploded, leaving me anxious and scared.

The fear has been kept dormant in my mind for quite some time. The thing about fear is that even though you try to think it's not there, inevitably you know it's there. It does not simply exist - fear haunts you. For me, it's probably the first thing I had been thinking about when I wake up these past few days. So you see, those mental landmines were pretty real.

It is not that I was not okay. I was okay. In a sense that I am not sad, I am not hurt. A little empty, but without pain. I am okay. Living day by day with smiles, laughter, probably silly little things to conquer boredom.

But if someone asks if I'm happy, it would be rather tricky to answer. I don't like saying I'm unhappy. I think the first step in feeling something is to actually admit it. So I don't like saying that I'm unhappy because it would be admitting, ergo I would actually be unhappy. No. Unless I have very good reason to say that I am unhappy, I would not like to say that I am unhappy.

But being happy has its distinct characteristics, and I suppose I'm somewhat missing them. So I'd say that I'm feeling a little empty.

But that was not the first time, and not implying that I was not okay.

But those landmines - well, I was ridiculously scared. To the point that I had to talk it out, put it in words, to a friend who I guess practically have no idea what I was so scared about. I wrote essay-like monologue, filled with falling metaphors, without doubt making him concerned enough to give me a few virtual hugs (laughs. Really. I have really sweet friends).

I remembered something about "giving darkness a name" in QED. You know, the point about being scared because we do not know what is ahead? Precisely my fear. So give it a name. Know it. And stop fearing.

I guess that was what I did with that conversation. To embody my fear in words. To let someone know it, to make it exist in form I can understand, and others can understand.

And it did make me feel better.

Having awesome friends do help a lot. But I guess I have a rather funny mechanism of keeping myself balanced somehow. And curiously enough, I often find comfort in words. I talk to people when I am agitated, I write, I scribble random words, I read. If not for fluid mechanics, maybe I would have spent all day devouring articles. Bathed my mind in words, of mine, of others, calmed it down.

So.

I just hope that I will remember this feeling for a long time. The feeling of being okay, the feeling of knowing that I can do things that makes it unnecessary to fear, the feeling of being somewhat free and light.