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I woke up in the dark, staring at the ceiling. You know that instant awake, that usually means you’ve heard something odd, or your last dream was too real, or, in my case, that my level of anxiety has just reached a boiling point.
I’ve gone to therapists in hope of helping my phobia. One woman specialized in phobias, and had great success with this new technique. It seemed to work, then the next day I was jumping out of my skin with anxiety. I wasn’t just worried about that up-coming plane trip, I was simply nearly overwhelmed with fear. It was damn near paralyzing.
I called her up, and said, “What did you do me?”
She explained that her technique worked with the subconscious. So that you did all the grunt work of the therapy while you were asleep. Then you’d wake up refreshed, and during the day you wouldn’t be working on the fear, only at night, when you couldn’t feel all the terror. Nice theory. It had even worked for a good friend
of mine. Worked like a charm for her.
Why didn’t it work for me? Interestingly enough she’d had this problem once or twice before with artists and writers. Apparently, some of us use our subconscious during the day. We’re like very in touch with parts of our psyche that most human beings only access at night in dream state. I’d always thought that I was more in tune with the hidden parts of me, interesting to have it confirmed.
My subconscious and I are apparently too tight to sepearate. That means that the veil that most people have between their waking mind and their subconscious isn’t really there for me. I didn’t realize that other people did it differently.
Knowing I was a writer, why didn’t the therepaist warn me? Because it hadn’t happened with every writer she’d worked with, only a few. Apparently, even among other writers I’m the odd duck. Why doesn’t that surprise?