Anxious this morning. Anxious last night. If I correctly recall, Chris and I had a conversation last night in which he tried to convince me that I am not 24/7 anxious and that there are in fact times when I am relaxed and happy. He tried and tried, but I ASSURED him that no matter how happy I seem – and may in fact be – this static noise haunts my brain like Mrs. Buckingham haunts the Buckingham house at Mystic Seaport, which is to say virulently and with pleasure.
I wonder if there is some way to befriend this ghoul in my head. Leaving Saltines for Mrs. Buckingham did not work, so I’ll skip that step. Maybe I can slowly just get to know this stranger and when we finally become comfortable with each other, we’ll either have become friends and have many adventures together (anxiety is actually a great ally in adventures, urging you on and pulling you back often just when you need it most) or at least we’ll be at peace with each other and co-exist.
I could take a lesson or two on anxiety from Racy the dog. She’s sitting next to me now on Chris’s couch, warm, breathing slowly, snuggled tight against me, paws curled this way and that, lounged in comfort to the extreme. She must have some anxiety when she sees a squirrel and can’t chase it, or when Chris leaves, or when we are eating ice cream and she can’t have any because Chris is such a stickler about ice cream sharing. However, she also appreciates the finer things in life, such as incessant napping and tail-wagging (which in human form comes very close to what we know as dancing).
Yes. Perhaps in moments of anxiety, one more trick in my toolbox can be to wag my tail and play with a toy, a yo-yo or something of that fashion. That sounds both reasonable and fun. Perhaps after after enough wagging and playing, my own personal Mrs. Buckingham will come down from my brain-attic because she sees we’re having so much fun and she’ll hitch up her petticoat skirts and do a little jig right along with us. Or she’ll turn vicious and eat us up and swallow us whole. You can never tell with brain ghosts.