Anxiety 101

We finished dinner in a fair amount of silence. I looked at my phone and saw the calendar reminder about Bible study, most of us found ways to cope with what came after, we, they are the stronger minds. I don’t think I can take that ride alone. I closed my eyes and thought to myself, this is where the fear talk begins. Everyone around me has anxiety, the stronger minds are able to move forward with their futures while the others run their minds at a snail’s pace, often looping them round and round the fear-a-go-round. Whatever happened to the sun, that happened to the earth, and further happened to God, is the problem. Mr. Fear keeps 75% of the population prisoner and 25% wishing we were too. To be honest with myself, I fear that when it gets dark, I will not be able to find my way back to Elder. I go into a trance staring at the shrimp in my salad. “Zella, it’s okay if you don’t go tonight. You’ve been through a lot over the last week. Hey, if you like, I could go with you.” I gave him a knowing look, “I’m okay Elder,” and I had already decided I wasn’t going to go. “I’m not going, perhaps I will study before I go to bed.” He looked at his plate and twirled his pasta slowly. I think I often push him away just like this. I reach my hand across the table, “I’m afraid a lot, I think you know that Elder. Please do not think that your company is not wanted. I have to somehow deal with my thorn the best way that I know how." "Okay. I’m going to retire. Maybe we will airwalk tomorrow?” Elder said softly. “Yes, that sounds like a good plan." I smiled widely. "Don’t worry about the dishes. I got them.” “No, Elder, let me get them, I want to remain functional.” I approached and gave him a hug. “Thank you. Now, please just go and get some rest.” He angled his head down at me, breathing in the smells of me, squeezed me back, then broke away. “Good night.” “Good night.” I said with a warm raspy tone. Air Walking is something stronger minds, like ours, are able to do now.

This sink was phenomenal, I thought to myself. All I had to do was wave my hand underneath the crane-shaped faucet and it came on. I felt the fear welling up inside of me as I stared into its maw or what seemed like a maw down in the center of the basin and my breath caught in my lungs. I reached for the heart-shaped locket that lay delicately on my chest and held my breath until it could catch up, caught. So, I did a little faucet dance to distract myself from myself, In and out, around and about, two steps to the side, two steps to the other side, In and out, around and about, then I broke into the sprinkler dance. Chickkka, chickkka, chickkka; I hope there are no surveillance cameras anywhere. I beat down the fear and let out a chortle. It took me 20 minutes to wash a handful of dishes. I went to my room, no closet fun tonight. I need to go straight to bed. I plopped down on my unmade bed and began to drift immediately. Elder’s obvious fondness for me was on my mind. I thought about his embrace, the warmth from him and how it made me feel right at home. Zella said to herself, "you constantly fail at these types of things. It is quite possible you were meant to be alone. Alive should be enough. I want that to be enough."

Zella is very good about honing her connections with others, thought Elder. I see she is getting more and more comfortable doing it, which is good. It does, however, make me a little nervous but then again everything makes me nervous now. How much of me can she read? The way her almond cattish eyes peruse my every surface, I know that she is trying to figure something out. There is definitely something that she hasn’t told me yet. I’ll give her another week of practice with air walking and I’m going to Segway right into the question. It would be wrong of her to hold back what is going on with her now that we both have an understanding about how she is so important to the order. It would be wrong of her. Perhaps, she doesn’t quite understand what she’s doing either. I’ll give her one more week and if she gives me that look like she’s boring a hole through me one more time; I’m going to have to press her for some answers. I meditate speaking in Portuguese, “A minha mente livre, Free my mind, Livre meu corpo, free my body, Deus espera a minha alma, God hold my soul, Permitam-me então correr livre, then let me run free.” I air walked out on the mountainside for as long as I could stand it. I just needed to feel free. Once I opened the door to the walk, the cool air blew me about. Oh, the rustling of the trees, it is such a shushing sound, as if they were asking me to be still, be quiet. The dead leaves that have been released from their branches just tumble and tumble grazing the ground. That scratching sound, that sound reminds me of my plight being so far away from home. I’ve heard that sound since I was a little boy, but never really stopped to listen to it. With that, I rested nestled in a tree and listened and listened. What peace, what hope, what promise this world holds for the ones who can just be still and successfully beat back their fears. I finally came back to myself and immediately felt exhausted from the walk. I folded back the coverlet on my bed and fluffed my goose feather pillows. I didn’t bother getting undressed; I just climbed in and allowed the night to take me.

It is a part of the Muslim funeral tradition to be buried as soon as possible after death, the funeral for Toddy has been arranged to take place next Saturday, later than the strong-minded family members would've liked. Friday breezed by as if the world was in a hurry to bury Toddy. I talked to her mother, Aneesah at a gathering, but she barely recognized me. She just stared at the locket around my neck and rocked in her chair. Her mind didn’t make it. Her lucidity comes and goes like her mind is playing hide-and-seek with her. At one point, she was able to explain the burial custom of her people. I listened until her speech became more broken, and at times stammering, then she turned her head and faded away. I seemed to empathetically feel everything that this poor mother was going through and it caused my own heart to begin to race.

I constantly feel convicted for not being able to see that Toddy was having so much trouble at home. It all happened before the world had a handle on what was happening to people. That is what I hate most about my disorder or my strong mind. It is such a selfish condition, you worry about this, about that, is it a heart attack this time, am I going to be able to make it to my destination, is this the moment where I cease to exist, I, I, I, I, and on and on it goes. “Toddy, I mean Zella, are you there?” “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” She continued to explain the burial process to me, picked back up from where she left off like her mind never left. “Don’t worry, my dear, no one will be speaking at the funeral. Prayers mostly and the internment is done by the men; the women will not attend. “Zella, can you bring the wonderful pasta you make to the reception?” Then she was gone again. “I love you too Mrs. Aneesah.” Such a light and airy way to finish the conversation.

I didn’t go back to the house, I needed some shop therapy. Nowadays you have to make an appointment to shop. I scheduled this appointment about a week ago after Toddy’s death. I’ve never feared clothing or dressing myself, so it was a wonderful respite. It costs $100 in advance to book, but again, an absence of fear. As I stood in the dressing room in my bra and panties an overwhelming feeling hit me, my heart began to quicken and I felt tingling down the back of my spine all the way down to my coccyx, then I felt an urge to move my bowels. A very uncomfortable feeling when it comes on so quickly. A woman proceeded to enter the dressing room; again in my bra and panties. “What the hell,” I muttered. She approached my person, I could see a scar on her chest that started at the base of her throat and disappeared down into her flowing blouse. She was speaking a language that I did not recognize and she seemed to be in some sort of trance just like the fella at the police station. She grabbed my face with both of her hands and began to speak vigorously. Her facial expression grew intense and her coloring or undertone began to turn a deep red. As her words became more intense she shook my head, which reverberated throughout my whole body. She wouldn’t let go, but I did not make another sound. She began to cry and I could instantly feel her pulse race, the emotional flare, and we began to simultaneously moan and fall to the floor on our knees. Tears welled up in my eyes as well, it was like I was sharing her grief, her hope, her dreams, all at once. I fell back against the mirror and she slipped to all fours. Our breathing still remained heavy and syncopated. Hearing the service bell ring, she stood, turned around, and with her back turned to me, I believe she thanked me in an unknown language.

I sat there against the mirror and realized that with all the focus on Toddy’s funeral that I haven’t really reflected on all the strange happenings that have been going on. I sat back and crossed my legs, like as a child, and began the grimacing task of setting my body’s alarm system off, so that I may air walk. I thought of my childhood, absent parents, the lack of love in my life, the loss of Toddy, and then pinpointed my desires on seeking out this woman. I began to hover above myself. I can see my pulse racing and my eyes moving about to and fro under my eyelids. Hmmm, my hair looks healthy from this angle. I pushed through the atoms in the air and made my way down the corridor and saw the woman. I pulsated around her to see her face and her name tag; it read Elena. I ushered my way to what I believed was the staff room. It was more like an employee break room with vending machines; however, I could see a schedule on the board. I looked down the list and saw Elena’s name. Her last name was Alfonso. I began the soft return to myself. Heart rate normalizing, feeling exhausted, I opened my eyes then chose the green jumpsuit. Elena was gone, but someone new was waiting. With a not-so-happy sigh, I purchased the garment and prepared myself for the awaiting anxious world.