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I think about Greer as my anxiety crutch.
I remember one phrase I read today, ‘Where the mind goes, the body will follow.’
I repeat the words over and over in my head. Right now my mind’s in a dark place. A place haunted by old memories. A place shrouded in fear. Fear that blossoms into anxiety the more and more I let it.
I need to retrain my brain. If that’s even possible.
I glance up at the cloudy sky, and suck in a deep breath. “How do I overcome something if I can’t even predict it?” I don’t know when my anxiety is ready to leap out, attacking me out of nowhere.
As if on cue, thinking about the anxiety brings on the heart palpitations. I try to breathe as I stop walking, my heartbeat raging out of control.
I think about Greer, and I’m temporarily calm, but then I push the thoughts of her away. I need to do this on my own. My mind needs to know my body’s not in danger.
My body’s fight-or-flight reaction has been activated, and my body’s on high alert, but there isn’t any danger present.
I sit on the curb, gasping for breath, while repeating aloud, "I'm not in any danger," in an attempt to reassure myself.
The feeling passes, the adrenaline running its course through my system. I can finally catch my breath, and after the dizziness settles, I stand.
I think about how my mind thought about anxiety, and my body followed right along after it, making the saying, ‘Where the mind goes, the body follows.’
I instantly reverse my thinking. I tell myself I’m healthy and strong.
I am healthy. The doctors checked me out. They made sure there’s nothing physically wrong with me.
I’m as healthy as an ox.
I’m as strong as one too.
I sprint toward my house, feeling the rush of my healthy heart pumping blood through my veins. My legs carry me faster as I pick up speed.
Before long I’m hauling ass down the street as fast as I can go, no longer worrying about my racing heart.
I can do this.
My anxiety will not control me anymore.
I rush up the steps to my front porch, and my father’s waiting just inside the door.
“Are you okay?” he asks me as I lean over, resting my palms on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
“I’m fine,” I say, standing to my full height. “Just let me shower and then we can go visit Mom.”
He nods, and I head upstairs.
As I shower I think of Greer. My thoughts always go to Greer, but I’m not about to jerk off in my childhood home. I did that plenty growing up.
Oh if these walls could talk. I chuckle as I exit the shower and get dressed in record time, tossing on a pair of jeans and black turtleneck sweater.
I need to make peace with my mother. I’ll never move forward until I do. I’ll never overcome my anxiety with the thoughts that I’m not good enough for Greer looming in the back of my mind.
TWENTY-FIVE
GREER
I slept like shit last night. To be honest, I’ve slept like shit the entire few weeks Roman’s been gone. After I poured my heart out, confessing my love for him, he left without a word. And since then, reaching him has proven impossible.
Not that I've made any attempts.
