“The first obligation of a prisoner is to escape.”
–John Sheridan, Babylon 5
I keep eating and eating. And cleaning. And knitting. And watching crap TV. And reading. And checking my e-mail.
I can’t stop. These are the things I do when I’m trying to escape, but I don’t even know what it is I’m trying to escape from. I should be happy–I have a new apartment, I’m going to get a puppy, I just got my first-stripe white belt in kung fu. These are all things I should be happy about, and there’s nothing going on that I should be distressed about.
But I feel like I’m verging on panic. I keep frantically doing all these things to keep it at bay. I don’t know why. I don’t even know what. And not knowing just increases my anxiety. I’m a person who likes– needs–to know things. I can survive just about anything if I just understand what’s happening to me and why. But this, this I don’t understand. I’m a highly self-aware person, so why don’t I understand this? Why do I not know what’s going on?
I need more fake ice cream.