Anxious.

I’ve been quiet here lately, mostly owing to the fact that when I’m in Ottawa I don’t tend to blog. Not inspired to, and usually don’t have the time for it either. I did some other writing while I was there, but everytime I sat with this screen open I couldn’t find what I wanted to say came at all easily. And so I didn’t bother. Suffice to say it was a shitty week for our collective bargaining team, and I was glad to come home on Thursday night (even if it was with a slight cold).

I had a lovely gathering last night at my home for Thanksgiving with lots of great friends, and even my brother in attendance, but found myself anxious throughout the evening. As I have been anxious over the last couple of weeks. Although it hasn’t been front and center, I’ve realized in the last couple of days that my overall stress levels have been rising in response to both the coming elections and the current economic crisis and my ability to cope has eluded me at the oddest times.

At the SuperStore on Saturday (a place I normally refuse to go but needed cheaper groceries for Thanksgiving meal) I came perilously close to a full-blown anxiety attack. Yesterday afternoon on the phone with Darren I found myself cursing loudly, yelling about a situation I know I have little ability to change. Last night after dinner I went home to Brian’s and found myself worried that the dinner wasn’t fun, that my parents life savings have been lost, that my brother is drinking too much, that Brian and I will never be able to move in with each other. And on, and on. Sober as hell, but neurotic as a drunk, these recent days I find myself in tears over nothing that is happening to me.

What’s remarkable about it is that until very recently (like until the last week) I have been really very confident, unshakable even as I have been working out, eating healthy, writing lots, engaged in a fantastic relationship – generally living a charmed life in many ways. But the current state of things has reminded me in some way that no matter how much you build your life, get it together, do the right thing – this system still finds ways to eat up everything you have worked for. And what worries me the most is that rather than pull together, humans can so often be grabby and pushy and so self-interested that the current crisis is more likely to pull everything apart.

But I suppose what the anxiety is really based on is my failure to remember, and internalize, how little control any of us have over it. That I can not change or stop the impacts of these things on the lives of people around me. I can not single-handedly force my employer to bargain fairly for our union members; I can not restock my parents’ life savings; I can not direct the US immigration system to work faster for Darren’s return home. All I can do is take care of my own health, my partner and his daughter, extend my love and support to those in my circle. And hope for the best, while accepting that the worst may still be yet to come.

It’s not without recognizing my own privilege that I type these words. I am lucky to have a secure job, no investments in the tumbling markets, and a riding that boasts a NDP seat as a given in tomorrow’s election. I am in love with a remarkable man, who has a beautiful daughter, and who I plan to spend my life with. I exist in one of the safest corners of the world, with an incredible community of people, and a support network that most people would celebrate. And so if I am feeling anxious, what is the rest of the world going through right now?

As Brian reminded me last night, no matter what happens, we can celebrate the fact that even in this teetering time there is still a feast to be had, a bottle of wine, a place to come home to. And so I know that I must refocus right now to put this anxiety at bay. Exercise, good food, writing, friends, my family. These things demand my attention, especially as the rest of the world spins out of my control.