For whatever reason, I woke up agitated. The first thing coming to a head in my lucid brain was the thought of driving through the country on a cold February afternoon, smoking a cigarette, feeling like shit. Blaring some kind of music to calm my nerves. Coming off of ecstasy, cocaine and booze.
I remember driving made me feel better.
Why this unpleasant memory surfaced, I have no clue. Why it was there waiting for me in the morning? Only the universe knows the answer to that one.
But it got me thinking. How that anytime I felt weird, off or anxious, I’d put myself in motion.
Driving, (when I drove), was my cure all. When I moved to the city; I ran. When I blew my ankle out; I rode the train. When I was coming down or high; I’d rock myself back and forth. Hell, I used to do that as a kid when I’d have panic attacks.
When I’m old and pissed off all the time, I’m sure I’ll own a rocking chair. Use that to solve all of my problems.
In life in general, I have to be in some sort of constant state of motion. I never sit completely still. Always moving, always looking around, always fidgeting with something. For years I couldn’t even tolerate living in the same place for more than six months. Always on the go.
I found comfort in motion. Steady, constant, motion.
I’m sure there’s a scientific reasoning for it. Some biological shit referring to my time in the womb. But I don’t really care. All I know as that through some stupid ass using memory I came to the revelation that my ass is happiest when it’s moving.
So the next time I’m upset, instead of subconsciously coming to the action of getting myself going, I’m just going to consciously get going and get to feeling better faster.
One more thing to come out of my disenchanted past. Bravo, Brain.
Buy Hi, Have You Met Me? on Amazon today! http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B009W1M
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan
I remember driving made me feel better.
Why this unpleasant memory surfaced, I have no clue. Why it was there waiting for me in the morning? Only the universe knows the answer to that one.
But it got me thinking. How that anytime I felt weird, off or anxious, I’d put myself in motion.
Driving, (when I drove), was my cure all. When I moved to the city; I ran. When I blew my ankle out; I rode the train. When I was coming down or high; I’d rock myself back and forth. Hell, I used to do that as a kid when I’d have panic attacks.
When I’m old and pissed off all the time, I’m sure I’ll own a rocking chair. Use that to solve all of my problems.
In life in general, I have to be in some sort of constant state of motion. I never sit completely still. Always moving, always looking around, always fidgeting with something. For years I couldn’t even tolerate living in the same place for more than six months. Always on the go.
I found comfort in motion. Steady, constant, motion.
I’m sure there’s a scientific reasoning for it. Some biological shit referring to my time in the womb. But I don’t really care. All I know as that through some stupid ass using memory I came to the revelation that my ass is happiest when it’s moving.
So the next time I’m upset, instead of subconsciously coming to the action of getting myself going, I’m just going to consciously get going and get to feeling better faster.
One more thing to come out of my disenchanted past. Bravo, Brain.
Buy Hi, Have You Met Me? on Amazon today! http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00B009W1M
Check out the blog on it's home site @
www.hihaveyoumetme.com for previous writings and more.
Don’t forget to stalk me further at https://twitter.com/#!/hihaveyoumetme orhttp://www.facebook.com/authorkatemonahan