Day Two - Distraction

Today was the fabled Farmageddon. Just in case anyone NOT in the Midwest reads this, today was the day that the Iowa Hawkeyes faced off against the Nebraska Huskers. I happen to be a raging Husker fan. It was a slow process, me coming out of the football closet, but it has been an incredibly satisfying addition to my life. Being as I'm not from Nebraska, but rather the state of their age old rivals, I'm constantly surrounded by Iowa fans. Which, on days like today, makes my smugness nearly unbearable. (Sorry, Nick.) But despite it all, despite my absolute exultation over the Huskers dominating win today, my mind is less than satisfied. I should be over the moon. I should be doing a two hour long Husker dance and stopping only to hydrate myself. Instead, I find myself lost in thought. Distracted.

Let's rewind a few hours. I woke up distracted. I had a crazy dream, that while not entirely unpleasant, was enough to get my heart pounding. I sneaked out of the bed, my cousin still deep in sleep as she'd only gotten home from her overnight shift at the hospital a few hours earlier. Carefully, I tiptoed into the living room, and turned the volume on low. God bless ABC for playing my beloved Huskers nationally. But my racing heart didn't stop. This time, I chalked it up to the nerves of the game. I mean this game is HUGE. The outcome means bragging rights for an entire year. Not to mention that I had quite the non-monetary bet riding on this one. I needed this win. But even when we were ahead by 10, my anxiety didn't go down. Not when we were ahead by 13. Not when we were ahead by 20. Not when we won. Of course by then we were watching the Battle of the Boot (as my extended family lives in the top of the Boot) and its been an exhilarating game as well. But since my desire for the Hogs to win is only for the joy of my beloved cousin (who as I write this has stomped off to the shower because she can't stand to watch it anymore), there is no reason to be anxious about it. There is no reason to be anxious at all.

So why am I constantly feeling as if I can't catch  my breath? Why do I feel as if I'm about to come out of my own skin? I can't get comfortable. Hell, I can't even distract myself. And when my favorite novel and my ROM of pokemon can't keep me occupied, something is very wrong. And distracted doesn't really begin to describe it. There is some sort of war going on inside of me. When I took my shower earlier, trying to catch my breath under the hot flow, I was overwhelmed by emotions that had no reasonable source. I was so happy, so relieved that I started crying, with this giant stupid grin on my face. For one second, my heart was outside of my mind's control, and it was reaching, grasping, desperate to hold on to the reality of the moment, to cling to that fleeting hope. But it flitted away through my hands before I could so much as sigh. And it was gone. And I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't think of anything but running. Running home. Like the other half of my heart was back in Iowa, pulling me there with all of its little will.

I wish I could understand exactly what's going on internally. I mean it was a shower for heaven's sake. The shampoo smelled lovely, but not put me in tears lovely. I don't think there is a smell that lovely, except for maybe newborn baby smell. I digress. There was nothing extraordinary about that shower. It was a moment outside of the shower, a moment even just thinking about gives me new words with which to ponder. There must be some war going on, for I feel as if I'm keeping myself constantly in check, holding myself through sheer will to this reality; I'm sitting on a couch watching football; when part of me longs to... well I'm not sure. Move, somehow. Change something. I will not let it go to the past, that is not healthy, and it goes against everything this blog is trying to accomplish. But in my iron lock of it, I cannot tell if it would go to the past, or go to some place I'm unaware of. Terrified that it will quickly run out of my control, I'm keeping it on a tight lockdown. But this can't last. It will escape, sooner or later. It has to. If it doesn't, I'll suffocate. I'll burst out of my skin.

At the very least I've got ten hours to think about it tomorrow as I drive home. I'll let you know how it goes. I'm curious myself.