If you've ever lived in Boston and never spent time at the Jamaica Plain (J.P.) Pond, DO IT. Growing up in J.P., the pond was my calm. I partied there in high school, drew there in elementary school, ran there as an adult and walked there since I could remember. I no longer live in J.P. but some times, I still go. At times alone and other times with friends or family. At times I walk or run and sometimes, I just sit. Looking at the stillness of the water and how it connects to the trees, then the sky.
A few weeks ago, before COVID happened- I decided to go take a seat at the pond to watch the moon and write. I wrote a poem:
I have anxiety.
It's starting to take over my body like a rash.
Irritating.
Keeps spreading.
I want to cry now.
My anger and frustration has transformed into tears.
Tears that won't come out.
Tears that are trapped in my throat, begging to escape.
But only one makes it.
A tear.
A tear that wishes to be many.
Many frustrations.
Many "I just give ups".
Many "I can'ts."
Oh how I wish I could just cry away this maldita cage.
My own body that became a cage to my fears.
LET ME OUT!
She screams.
But the throat won't open.
The thoughts won't escape.
So she stands...
Señorita anxiety.
ASI, como si na.
I'm not a poet. But at times, poetry is the only way it makes sense to express a feeling. I've struggled with anxiety a lot in my adult years and if you have too, I hope you can find some peace in knowing that you're not alone. Maybe you feel it just like I do. Like a tear that won't come out so your stress, breath and freedom stay stuck in your throat. But you can let it out. Over time and with effort. I hope my posts on meditation and relaxation help in this journey. After all, we all want Eudaemonia <3
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