JULY 2020
In this series, I visualize the steps of an anxiety attack. Close friend and fitness guru Urkhan Alakbarov is the photo subject.
When it happens, I’m exiled from a balanced mental state to split-second idleness. A moment of eternity. And then, blood courses through my veins; Heat flash envelopes; Breathing deregulates; Peripheral and focal visions merge; The physical attempts to keep up with the mental. I feel like a monster....Total disorder, we meet again...and yet, a glimmer of hope reminds me to center myself; You’re not this monster. You’re human.
I slow down my movements, breathe deeply, and set a pace with which I am patient. These are far better methods than self-medication and denial, which are self-defeating and therefore poor symptom managers...Via therapy, I’ve learned to observe the moment, and accept my state in such instances... These days, I look beyond the trigger; what is the origin? I am not born this way. Consequential past events have to be the cause.
Self-centering moves at a frustratingly sluggish pace. I liken it to physical therapy or gym workouts, which I enjoy. With patience and determination, I meet my physical goals which fuels a happiness that is tied to self-contentment. In this state, I can logically find answers. Slow and steady, I recover.
“Disappointed? In who?” questioned my therapist. She was right to ask. My bullshit response was that I was disappointed in myself for having another anxiety attack. But I can’t be disappointed with something so essential to my human form. It’s irrational to do so. Self disappointment is to view myself as less than. I’ve no time for that. Instead, I should find out what happened to that little child...