Stuck and Restless

I woke up this morning with a racing mind, trying to keep up, all the while forgetting what I’m supposed to do today, if anything.

All I can focus on is everything which needs adjusting, improving, fixing.

I need more sleep and need to stop staying up so late. I need a better diet with less carbs and cheese with more fruits and vegetables. I need to be more active and exercise. I’m not getting any younger, and I need to start taking care of myself now.

I need to stop being so late to work. I need to be a better supervisor. I need to be more attentive for my employees. Even if it’s “just a day job”, I’m being ridiculous.

I have a mountain of Hebrew homework I haven’t done in over a month, and I’m going to fall so far behind if I don’t catch up and keep practicing. I need to practice my recital pieces. I need to do my taxes.

Pesach is coming, and I need to start deep cleaning my apartment, removing all the chametz (leaven).

I have so much I need to do for this “announcement” coming in twelve days. Is it even worth it? Am I doing the right thing? What if it’s too soon, too premature?

I need to stop being so lazy, lax, and irresponsible. I need to follow through with commitments. I need to stop wasting time.

I need to, I need to, I need to… the list goes on and on.

Only when I stop and ask myself why I feel this way, why my mind is aflight with such self-analysation and criticism; when I pause and breathe and force my mind to rest, I realise most of these observations are, though true, nothing worth fretting over.

Sure, these are all areas which need improvement. I don’t deny that. Each of us can always improve ourselves, no matter how insignificant or miniscule it seems.

My point is even if they are areas which need improving, they are not critical, and thus the heightened level of activity my mind is experiencing can only mean one thing: I’m restless.

Restlessness is my archenemy, my Achilles’ heel. I think there are few things which can render me so debilitated, overwhelming me to the point my passion is desiccated.

It’s like my introverted intuition is in a frenzy, glitching out and overheating like an improperly running engine. Excepted it’s not introverted intuition at all, but the beginnings of my grip function trying to take hold. It’s extroverted intuition out of control, triggering my panic mode, initiating my fight or flight sense.

The problem I’ve had with restlessness in the past is I ride this frantic wave of ideas and observations until I’m sucked down into the whirlpool of introspection, which only causes me to enter this rut of overanalysing a situation until I’ve beaten this poor dead horse six feet under.

Thankfully, I know myself a little better than I once did, and I can see the signs of my grip function trying to take over.

Thus far, I’m not overwhelmed, and I don’t intend to be. I’m contentious of my surroundings, my reactions, my current mental state. It’s merely restlessness, which can be overcome.

The ironic, paradoxical factor in all this is the answer to why: “Why do I feel this way?”

Because I feel stuck.

I feel as though I’ve been on this amazing adventure of rock climbing, only now I’ve reached this point where I’m caught between a rock and a hard place, and I can’t seem to find a way out. Thus, I’m just dangling here waiting for help to come and pull me out, but my friend seems so far off I don’t know if they’re still seeking help or forgotten all about me.

Bizarrely, I can see the hundreds of feet below me from this angle, the sheer drop to the earth beneath me, and I am not afraid. I know I’m safe here, secure and protected. That’s the nice thing of being stuck in a cleft: you’re covered on all sides. The wind and cold and rain can’t penetrate me, but then again neither can the sunlight.

Only I’m started to get claustrophobic, and this tight space is beginning to feel even smaller than it actually is. I want to break free and get back to climbing this cliff side, but I can’t do it alone.

So I wait. And I wait. And I wait.

I’m bored. I’m idle. I want something to do. I can only remain here in this attitude for so long without it starting to become so dull and dreary and irritating.

It is stressful, I guess, this ambiguity and uncertainty. However, I still have hope. I have not been discouraged or driven to despair, and I pray those possibilities never come to fruition.

I feel almost like fire being fed a strong wind. I can feel my flames growing, rising, wanting to burst out of confinement. Only I’m terrified if I remain stuck here, still feeding on these winds of change, I’ll explode. And if I do, I’ll hurt others around me unless I’m moved to a larger, proper enclosure where I can let my flames blaze in all their strength until calmed again.

That’s why I hate this feeling, this sensation. For a while, I feel content. I have the privilege of resting in this hard to reach place where I have the pleasure of surveying the surrounding area, admiring the beautiful view no one else will ever get to witness. I also get to relax because I’m stuck.

Although after a while, the sheer plummet to the ground below starts to gnaw on my subconscious until soon it becomes the only thing I am conscious of, and that’s when I become restless. I know I need to move on, to get out of this place, but unfortunately, for the circumstances which are creating this current feeling, I am not at liberty to pull myself out. I have to rely on someone else. And it makes my present situation all the more…irritating.

Thus, since this situation is out of my control, my grip function is trying to take over by pointing out all these areas I could improve in my life which would temporarily restore my sense of control.

Hence the restlessness.

And you know the worst part? I have to keep reminding myself it’s okay that I’m stuck. There’s no inspirational speech I can think of except that it’s not a bad thing I’m stuck. It’s okay, but I don’t want to be “just okay”. I want to keep going, to keep progressing, to keep travelling.

I want to blaze, not just merely burn.

I cannot tell you how impossibly irritating such reality is to me. I hate being idle, not having something to do, merely waiting. It’s agonising. I just want to scream, “Give me something to do!” But I shan’t.

As I have written before, I’m just stuck in the middle of my journey, of my story. It’s all a part of the plot, this rising action. It builds the tension, the drama of this epic, which in time will unfold, I hope and pray, in a beautiful climax of beauty and awe, resolving into a new beginning.

Or I could plummet to my death. We’ll see.

Though, I highly doubt it. Even if I’m not certain what the outcome of my circumstances will be, I trust all those involved. Therefore, I shall wait. I may never get this chance again. Somehow I’ll find the outlet for my restlessness, and thus the courage to continue waiting until I’m pulled out of this position – and hopefully with the strength to carry on until I reach that glorious summit I’m longing to see.