Stop this train.

On Monday, March 24th, three weeks ago, I went to bed late, tossed and turned, and never could fall sleep. In fact, I laid awake until 6:30am Tuesday morning, when I heard Tim begin to move and start his morning routine. Finally, I slept a few hours in late morning, cancelled my training session due to exhaustion, and then sat down to write about all the things that had kept me from sleeping. I'm only just now sharing them.

Tuesday, March, 25, 2013
Sometimes you think thoughts you don't want to. Sometimes I choose to write them down. 

You might say I've struggled with melancholia all my life. I think my parents will agree that from birth I exhibited signs of being a rather dark-tempered child. I was shy and withdrawn around people when I was a toddler, and incredibly stubborn. My father likes to tell this story about me and a tin of hair pins (there is disagreement as to whether it was hair pins or Q-tips). I think I was about two, and I was playing with a tin of hair pins which I opened and dumped all over the floor. When play time was over, my father told me I needed to pick the pins up and put them back in the tin. I refused. There was a spanking. I picked up one pin and put it in the tin. My father told me I needed to put the rest of the pins back in the tin. I refused. There was a spanking. I picked up one pin and put it in the tin. By my father's account, this happened 8 or 9 times before I was crying, he was crying, and ultimately he gave up. You might say it set a tone.

I've written about my struggles with control and anxiety before. I've shared some of my nightmares that I'm sure are a subconscious release of that anxiety. Last night I wasn't having dreams, though. I was just awake, grieving, for my future. There's this "cheesy" quote I like, because it very much explains my three main mental states: "If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present." (Lao Tzu) Last night I was living the future. I was so anxious about nothing in particular, that I was lying in bed until after six am this morning without sleep. Not even dozing. I was just awake. Worrying. And actually that's a lie. I know what I was anxious about. It's just really hard to talk about it.

I was sad about the end of things.

I know all things come to an end. I know that one day we will no longer be young and dreaming big. I know that it's impossible to always have Mr Dog by our sides. I know that eventually we will care for  our parents the way they are caring for theirs now. I know that one day I will no longer be able to dye the greys that have taken up residence on my temples and top of my head and are moving in all across my crown. I know I won't always have elasticity in my skin, or a sway in my step.

But like that two year old that didn't want to obey my father, that resisted at every command, I want to refuse this knowledge. I don't want to imagine a time when my parents aren't taking care of me. I don't want to be a grownup! I don't want to think about saying goodbye to my best companion. I don't want to think about life without my husband, or about his life without me, down the road. I know things end. Things have to have an end. I just don't want them to, and sometimes it's so frightening that I don't have any control over it at all. I anticipate all the grief that comes of loving with a depth that is scary and undefinable. I can't put into words for you how much I love my dog. I can't measure the amount of love I carry in my heart for my family. I can't imagine the aching hole that would be left in my heart if my husband weren't there to fill it. Sometimes it just feels like we are all on this train rushing toward the end, and I'm not ready.

Say what you will about John Mayer, but this song has struck a chord with me from the first time I heard it. It's has so much truth and puts into words how I feel in such an exact way, that I often just can't listen to it.

Stop this Train 

No I'm not color blind
I know the world is black and white
Try to keep an open mind but
I just can't sleep on this tonight
Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
But honestly won't someone stop this train 

Don't know how else to say it, don't want to see my parents go
One generation's length away
From fighting life out on my own
Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can't take the speed it's moving in
I know I can't
But honestly won't someone stop this train 

So scared of getting older
I'm only good at being young
So I play the numbers game to find away to say that life has just begun
Had a talk with my old man
Said help me understand
He said turn 68, you'll renegotiate
Don't stop this train
Don't for a minute change the place you're in
Don't think I couldn't ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly we'll never stop this train 

See once in a while when it's good
It'll feel like it should
And they're all still around
And you're still safe and sound
And you don't miss a thing
'til you cry when you're driving away in the dark. 

Singing stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can't take this speed it's moving in
I know I can't
Cause now I see I'll never stop this train
by John Mayer

Tuesday morning, exactly one week later, my mother called to say that an ultrasound had shown a mass on my father's pancreas. Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again.