I walked last night. And then I ran. I started running and just didn't want to stop. It was as if things I didn’t even know I was feeling were chasing me the moment my feet hit the pavement. I ran further, and it seemed faster, than I’d run in ages. And the thought struck me that maybe, just maybe, if I could keep running – they could never catch me. They would be unable to jump back inside me, weighing me down, drowning me.
But I eventually stopped running. You have to. It wasn’t a conscious thought, it was just an empty moment where I found myself at my front door. Miles Davis was placed into the surround sound system and the neighbors were treated at a late hour to So What, Blue on Green and All Blues. I skipped the exercise ball crunches and the elastic band curls to stand under the water and hope the music was louder than the thoughts in my head.
I tried to talk to someone, just to ease the anxiousness that was threatening to overwhelm me. But I learned early not to be open, and he couldn’t hear me through the walls I erected.