Discontinued.

I'm giving T.I.L.T. a rest, for at least this week if not discontinued indefinitely. As the first post-Cloakfest post of the new 2K8-2K9 season, it didn't feel right to start with something so insubstantial. In meticulously rereading a year's worth of posts over the course of the last week to compile my Essentials, I realized there wasn't as much depth in my writing as in past years, and more than one post about what I ordered for lunch or what the weather was like. That's not the compelling Mysterious Cloaked Figure I've been developing over the past few years, the enigma who might never truly show his face, but will often bare his soul in the therapeutic freedom of anonymity.

Last year put me under a great deal of stress, and it took its toll. My cat got sick. My parents were both sick, my mom at one point spending a week in the hospital. I bought a somewhat new car. And I adjusted to a new job which, while at a great company with wonderful people, lacked the subject matter of my previous job that fit my personal taste. Long hours and certain difficult individuals gnawed at me at the old place, but the work itself that I created and the people I collaborated with were a dream come true. In the grand scheme of my career those years will be but a blip on the radar, and though I'll be forgotten I will never forget them.

So I didn't look back, held on to the friends and connections I valued, and moved forward as I embraced my new life and new routine. As I read through my words from the past year, I noticed a pattern, and given the drastic changes and family crises I faced, it's no surprise that the old anxiety spells resurfaced. They began around the time my cat almost died, my mom was in the hospital, and I started driving a new car. It's funny how distance can give us perspective on things we were too close to in the past. The spells were shorter and easier to control than a few years ago when I first encountered the problem, especially since this time I knew there was nothing wrong with me physically, other than perhaps a lack of sleep. It wasn't long before I was making it through meetings or through mass without the sensation that I'd stopped breathing, and something as simple as chewing gum got me through rough patches while on the road. By the time I was working out regularly and getting more sleep, they'd almost disappeared entirely unless my mind wandered and I thought about them.

With the conclusion of my band season this past weekend, save for the possibility of one more short gig in November, they've almost lifted entirely. I've gone three days now without using gum while driving. I'm feeling pretty good. I made a mistake on Wednesday, allowed stress to push me toward unwise comfort food, and chased Taco Bell with Starbucks, never a good recipe for brain nor intestines. I'll spare you the physical and psychological consequences, but ultimately I've decided never to do that again. The problem with the word “never” is that it never sticks. Throughout the year I've made similar vows, not just with my diet, but with my attitude. Deadlines, difficult people, and other little distractions would trouble me no more. A mosquito buzzing in one's ear might seem deafening, but it is insignificant in truth. I learned to turn off these things and focus on what was important. Family. Friends. Life. And life got better as a result of this attitude shift.

I guess, in the end, life is a lot like rock climbing. Hopefully, we keep going up, and there are ledges and ropes to anchor us and help us along the way. Inevitably, we will stumble and fall a bit. We are human. Sometimes others will try to pull us down as they climb. The important thing is to stay cool, not panic, and grab a fresh hold. Keep climbing, folks. Discontinue the urge to look down, and things will start looking up.