IT RETURNS
IT RETURNS
Joe knew it - he knew it had to happen - the fears, the anxiety, the depression...just when it looked like everything was going good now!
However, the Christmas season is upon us now. I’ve been at Bospas for over a month - I’m thinking - holiday! I’m also thinking about my parents, and how I haven’t ever celebrated Christmas without my family. I really miss them - but I’m having mixed feelings about going home - as well as a renewed sense of urgency to get something done here. The worry and anxiety starts to return, but I’m trying to keep it at bay… I mean, my money is really dwindling. I got maybe $150 - $175 left. That’s not even enough to get a ticket back home.
Holy Shit.
I’ve been here in Ecuador about 3 ½ months now, and I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything yet. Jeez. What the fuck am I doing?!I haven’t even seen a third of Ecuador yet - to say nothing of the rest of South America - and what about the Amazon!? That was supposed to be, like, one of my main reasons for coming down here in the first place.
The wall of terror really comes crashing down, however, one late night on the front patio, when I’m having a conversation with the other two volunteers while having a cup of tea. We’re having this great conversation about environmentalism and sustainability - when the grip of anxiety gets a hold of me like an emotional headlock.
Oh my God.
These guys are like, 21, 22 years old, man - I’m close to 44! I’m literally twice their age! I mean, it’s totally cool for them to roam around the world and have adventures - they’re just kids! They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them.
Inevitably, they’ll go back to Europe, continue their education at University, begin work on their Master’s Degrees and PHd’s; they’ll be all set. They’ll just transfer these experiences into college credits.
What about me?!
I’m screwed!
When I get back home - I’m just another middle- aged nut with no discernible and/or marketable skills… I mean, what am I going back to anyway?
A life of catering!?
Living at my parent’s house - waiting for my next nervous breakdown while they watch nightly reruns of ‘Friends’ and eat Entenmann’s Crumb Cake?!
Will that be my legacy?!
A whirlwind of tremulous anxiety whips through my body while I’m talking to these guys. All the grandiose ideas me and Piet have been discussing the past few weeks seems like pure folly to me now. It’s all great in theory, but… what if I can’t sleep?! What if I experience a myriad of sleepless nights - and am too devastated to even get out of bed in the morning?!
What about the tourists paying good money to have an experience?!
And I’m in charge of it all?! I can’t do this…
I begin hyperventilating.
Before my body becomes rife with the shakes, I excuse myself from our little discussion, and walk stiffly but rapidly up to my room. I plop down on my bed, fish through my drawer for my Discman, and assume the meditation posture.
Breathe… breathe… breathe…
