Anxious in Mayberry
It’s right before my 25th birthday, and I decided to take a trip to a neighboring city for a couple of days. I’d only visited this city once in elementary school, so it was pretty much a new city for me. Between work stress, friend stress, and having a job with PTO, I figured why not. I wanted to do something (a little) outside of my comfort zone.
After a productive day’s work and a two-hour drive with an awesome playlist, I’m in the city. It was almost dark, but I ordered dinner and felt safe enough to walk a couple of blocks to pick it up. The neighborhood my Airbnb is in resembles a blend between Savannah, Georgia, and Mayberry. Think quaint, older homes where they allow ivy to grow on the side of their birdhouse home and they have big front porches with patio couches. All the neighbors are out at dusk taking a nap, reading a book, or watching their kids. They all wave at me as if I’m not an outsider. I wish the apartment I’m staying in had bigger windows, but overall it’s nice.
I’m barely even out of the neighborhood and I know I’m anxious. I can feel it. I wish I’d driven. I keep getting rocks in my sandals. This is too unfamiliar. People think I put my shoes back on in a stupid way. I shouldn’t have come. I can’t get my strap on quickly enough. I wanted bigger windows….
I made it to the restaurant, picked up my food, and headed back. The walk back was better but I still felt too exposed, so all I could think about was that I wish I’d driven.
You know that mildly restless feeling where you want to do something, but you’re not quite sure what? I wanted to get back to a place of feeling familiar, but I wasn’t sure how to get there. I tried to watch a movie. Didn’t work. I tried to unpack and arrange my things in a way that didn’t feel so out of place. Also didn’t work.
One thing that, while not happy by any means, brings me back to familiarity is imagining semi-made up disaster scenarios.
So I tried a third option. One thing that, while not happy by any means, brings me back to familiarity is imagining semi-made up disaster scenarios. It starts like this:
Step 1: Conflict happens. It could be any conflict, but it’s almost always relational. It could be substantial or minuscule. It literally doesn’t matter, but if it’s the right formula that ignites my disaster imagination, then it’s up for grabs.
Step 2: Stress induces. Conflict = copious stress in my world right now. I’m working on it.
Step 3: When I’m alone because God forbid someone witnesses this, I extrapolate this relational conflict to the most extreme, and highly unlikely, degree. I live the extrapolation out in my head.
Keep in mind, this feels almost as real as reality itself. There are usually tears involved. I guess I should give you an example, but that’s just too personal.
So last night, to sleep, I found familiarity and comfort in a previously played out disaster scenario. These aren’t a one-and-done. They come back when needed until eventually they’re played out and another takes its place. Gotta keep the disaster scenarios fresh.
Day Two is better. I’d gotten a solid night’s rest, I didn’t have to wake up to an alarm, and I also didn’t have to keep myself accountable to completing my at-home task list before heading off to work, which was particularly nice. I still checked my work email, but hey, let’s appreciate the progress.
I headed to a coffee shop and began writing this post actually, among other things. I am still out of my comfort zone, but it’s a coffee shop. You can only feel restless for so long when you have quality coffee, a delicious breakfast sandwich, and all your journals/Bibles/highlighters to keep you busy.
While Mayberry didn’t start like I thought it would, it’s getting better as the day goes on.
Read Green to see how the rest of the trip went.