I'm locked into anxiety, so I'm going to write

A couple weeks ago, I had a cancer scare. At the same time, I came up with the concept for a podcast. Called it Healthy Conversations with Fi. Two opposing things can happen at the same time.

I thought my podcast was indicative of my fighting spirit, refusing to give in to negativity, giving bad news the middle finger and whatnot. I thought I was in control. But I wasn't. And when I least expected it, I spiralled. Hard.

Here's what happened.

Healthy Conversations with 'Fi was conceptualized to focus on health- healthy lifestyles, healthy diets, healthy minds. It was going to be my breakthrough project, my return to the world of content creation. Except, I wasn't healthy. I was privately battling a cancer scare, waking up at ridiculous hours, crying until my eyes were dry and grainy, taking on frenzied tasks in a desperate attempt to help my family's financial circumstances in the event that I passed away, fretting over my children's future. I literally worked myself into planning my funeral.

Anxiety was ripping away at my edges, even as I struggled to maintain a façade of normalcy.

I should have slowed down. I should have taken time to address my physical health concerns, and then time to breathe. I tried instead to be Atlas. Except the sky wasn't meant for my shoulders and I collapsed.

Monday, November 28th was supposed to be the launch of my podcast. My first post was focused on the importance of sleep. Or it should have been. It was going to be paunchy, eye-opening, informative, entertaining. I was going to have fun with it. This was right up my alley- content creation and talking. But guess what happened?

I glitched. And as I struggled to hold on to the edges of reality, I could not sleep. Go figure.

So this is where I am today. No podcast, but slightly better. My scare was nothing more than a scare, and I've gotten medication for the anxiety that's slowly working its way in. My anxiety is still there, of course, lurking beneath the surface, reeking, floating through my pores like the rank scent of stale alcohol filtering through a drunkard's sweat, but it's penned in by my meds. In time, I hope it fades.

And in every dark cloud there is a silver lining, so here's mine. Last week, as I sat in the doctor's office waiting, I grabbed a pen and I wrote a poem. It's sad, it's painful, and as the poet, I am super biased, but I love it and I am sharing it with you. Here goes:

When God wrote the chapters of my life, He cried, His tears mingling with my letters so that in parts I am nothing but a smudge.

I know God loves me.

He wrote me into being tenderly, with gentle strokes marking my outline-

Blessing me with the ability to see through space and time,

Granting me the power to hold a pen, to feel acutely,

And yet, I glitch repeatedly because He watered the garden of my life with His tears.

People love stability.

I am not.

I am anything but.

I am at times bright, sunny, fresh, breezy,

At times violently stormy.

With me there's no consistency

Other than the fact that to look at me will make you consistently dizzy.

I am unbridled glee merging into intense anguish seamlessly.

When God wrote the chapters of my life, He cried. His tears mingling with my letters so that in parts I am nothing but a smudge.

And so, friends, that's it. That's my poetry.

The doctor eventually came by, listened attentively, asked careful questions, prescribed pills. And today, I'm medicated.

So, the date of my podcast is past. Which means Healthy Conversations with Fi is silence. It's echoes. It's nothingness.

But, there's a bright lining in even the darkest cloud. Healthy Conversations with Fi spawned poetry. Spawned a trip to the doctor for much needed therapy.

And who knows? Maybe this should in time be the topic of my first podcast. Not sleep, but the human experience, the crushing weight of anxiety and ways to wade through that experience to find peace on the other side. I'm not on the other side yet so this is just me thinking out loud.

Thank you, dear reader, for stopping by and reading, inconsistent though my posts may be. And to the managers of this platform, thank you for the space to write.