It’s been about a week now, and I can’t shake this feeling of anxiety. You know the one, you’ve all had it: a cold weight in the chest that freezes the heart with it’s icy tendrils. The Interested will have had this feeling fleetingly at some point in their lives, but Those-Like-Me know that it can linger, and linger.
This feeling has no cause, I don’t think. No single one anyway. There will always be too many feelings and reasons and thoughts to accurately share them all. It’s like having emotional tinnitus, a dull whining that can’t be shaken off or cured. From experience, it’s just something that has to go on it’s own. But, I have to admit, it’s never lasted this long. It’s like spending a week with the cold hand of death on your shoulder. No wait…you know how Frodo had returned to Bag End and the wound from the Witch King’s dagger still aches at times? That’s how it feels!
Anxiety is like being stabbed by a morgul blade on Weathertop. You can make it all the way to Mordor and back, but you’ll never shake that feeling.
The next question is, what is my version of the Grey Haven? When do I get to safety of Valinor where all this can slip away? The answer, of course, is that I’ve stretched this epic geek analogy too far and there are no Undying Lands for us to retreat to. There’s just patience, and determination.
But what I wouldn’t give for a ship to carry me away from this soul-deep cold.
Thanks for reading.