So I can't really figure out what to write about. I have a little bit of writer's block I guess. I feel like I've been in a "writer's block" for the past four months. That sounds dramatic. Obviously I've been able to think and write over these past few months, but I have been turning off my thoughts and stuff a lot. Anyway, I'm not going to focus on the bad, but sometimes I work myself up to the point where I can't breathe and then I hyperventilate. There are a few things that have helped me in the past when I'm having these panic attacks: breathing into a plastic bag, running, or crying. The last one is not really a choice, it just happens.
Ok so a few months ago I got that feeling where I knew I was going to have one of these panic attacks so I went to the gym at school and I ran sprints. It was the night I became single and I literally did not know what to do. So I went to the gym and ran and ran, while blasting music in my ears turned up all the way. I didn't even realize I was crying until I couldn't breathe, like at all. I felt my face and it was wet. It was a very strange sensation. Luckily no one else was in the gym, for once. I pulled myself together and continued to run, because that's all I knew I could do. I put all I was feeling into that run.
About a month after that when I had made a lot of mistakes I wished I could take back and I was mad (at myself and a few others) I felt like a wanted to start a fight with someone. Anyone. Luckily I didn't because I don't know a thing about fighting anyone. My friend talked me out of it and I found myself at the gym again. This time it was the treadmill. I turned up Christina's "You Lost Me" and I sprinted my guts out. Literally. I almost threw up. Sorry if this doesn't seem to make sense at this moment... but I promise I'll tie it together soon.
So yesterday I got that feeling again. I knew it was time to run again. So I laced up my sneaks, put on some leggings and sweats, and under armor, a shirt, and a sweatshirt (I live in New England so it's not like I could go out in shorts and a t-shirt)... Anyway so I drove down to the beach where I run in the summertime. I was a little nervous to run because I knew I am not in the best shape of my life but I also am sick of sitting around waiting for things to change. So I knew I had to just "start shooting one day and deal with the pain" (kudos to you if you knew that was a OTH quote... bonus points if you knew it was Nathan who said it...) I started running up the hill on the edge of the beach and the wind was against me. I realized it was going to be harder than I thought to run, but I didn't want to stop. I got to the top of the hill and saw the open ocean for the first time since this summer and my breath caught up to me. I'm pretty sure it was the first time I could actually breathe normally in a long time. Full, deep, clean breaths of ocean air. It was liberating.
And yes I'm sure this sounds so fake to most of you, but in reality I realized that I can't sit around in my house all day and night waiting for some sort of inspiration or change to come through and hit me in the face, but I have to get out there and do something for myself. And even when I want to stop I have to keep going. My heart is on the mend. Just like my arm and it's going to take time but I can't just sit around and do nothing about it in the mean time. And my heart is starting to feel better already. I put it through a lot of pain this semester but luckily I am finding my way back to being in a good place. So until I reach that great place I will just keep breathing. And running. And living. And laughing. And just breathing. It seems simple but it's not always the easiest thing for me to do.
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