Whenever anything isn’t quite right, I either eat a lot or go to the beach. I much prefer doing the latter.
Days go by so quickly; it’s challenging to stay afloat. Coping and dealing are two ends of a management spectrum. One can see-saw on that spectrum in the span of a day, a week, a lifetime. When I eat a lot, it’s a coping mechanism where my brain switches off and the disorder kicks in. Forget for then what is causing the distress and just calm down. Binge; make up for it later by punishing myself.
The beach is the dealing end of the spectrum. I’m forced to take a breath and contemplate what is upsetting me. My cat (feline child) reached the end of his life. The sun hits the water and I see his love reflecting back on me. I’ll see him again, or he’s still with me. I feel a little better.
My old horse died and I couldn’t say goodbye. The waves lap at my toes. I said goodbye to her every time I left her. She knew I loved her. She is incarnate in her son whom I have by my side. I will continue my love for her through him. I feel a little better.
I have anxiety, depression and an eating disorder. So do lots of people. I am not alone. The salt water leaves me giddy and content. I feel a little better.
My dog is getting old. My dad needs a biopsy. I’m broke. I’m moving. I’ve got a lot on my plate.
…A beautiful, smart young student of mine decided she couldn’t deal and ended it. My heart breaks thinking of the family and friends of this vibrant seventeen-year old…just gone…
But I’m at the beach. I’m taking five minutes of salty joy to heal myself, and sending love across the tides to those who had no sea to help them stay afloat.