I do enjoy the post anxious phase, and to be clear here, I’m talking about Hollywood anxiety. The kind you get before a presentation or before a big game. The kind which is neither debilitating nor stigmatised, in fact the main character will just sweat a little, grimace, maybe clench a fist… then give the best performance of anything ever, every time.
Exactly like reality.
As I’ve got older*, I realise anticipation and Hollywood anxiety are just par for the course when approaching new situations. It could be that I’m doing my first ever presentation, asking a girl out for the first time, or my personal worst ‘first’: using an ATM machine. Once you’ve done these things a few times the anxiety reduces and the build up before the event in future dissipates. You ultimately just get better at whatever it is. I even adore the feeling after such an event, when you get a rush of relief, not to mention you have had the gift of learning something.
Learning something and reliefing*, who doesn’t love that?
That’s all well and good when there is a benefit, when going through the anxiety brings you some kind of reward. Such as being able to access any of the money you’ve accumulated in your bank account. But what happens if there’s no reward? Well you’re just a donkey without a carrot and a stick, and everyone knows a donkey without a carrot and a stick, is just a stickless carrot ass.
I’m a stickless carrot ass.
The anxiety has been kicking in today, just a few sharp spikes on the Official Anxigraph* reading. It is for good reason though, I’m about to do something new, something I’ve never done before, but there’s no stick or carrot involved.
Tomorrow is the day of the funeral. I’ve never been to one before and that is a good thing, I’m very lucky. But it also means I’m going into a new situation which I am very anxious about, how the day Will go? What will happen? How sad will it be? Will I drop the coffin?
This time I don’t want to go through the anxiety, I don’t want to get used to funerals and I don’t want to be ‘better’ at them. The usual post-anxiety relief will not be there either, because my Gran will not come back with us. The best case scenario is that I don’t drop the coffin, or I find a carrot.
*This is the name of a device that I made up but would imagine is the legitimate name for something that measures anxiety.
*The oh so wise age of 28.
P.S Currently in Scotland for said funeral, and don’t have a laptop, so no picture today (or tomorrow)