Eight years ago I was consumed on a warm, beautiful day in mid-August. I was consumed by pain. We lived on a circular block and I must have walked around it fifteen times trying to rid my body of the pain in my stomach. I felt as though I was poisoned, cursed, doomed to endure this suffering. With tears running down my face and sweat pouring down my back I sat down on the curb and just rocked back and forth for what seemed like hours.
I was taking the bar exam for the second time. I needed to pass it to keep my job. My hopes and dreams were riding on it. I was consumed. I was filled with an anxiety and depression that reached the very depths of my being. Although I was filled with this lethargic sludge, my heart and soul felt empty. I was at a very helpless place in my life.
I don't revisit this place very often, and I don't stay very long when I go there, but it does come and often without warning. It is not a sadness so much as a consumption of misery that is inescapable. It has no exit and no rug to hide under.
I recently took a trip back to this dismal sty only to find that I did have an exit, an escape. I can't explain this blissful exodus, only to say that maybe I've put some internal mechanisms in place to deal with such events; some unconscious survival techniques. I'd just like to thank evolution and mother nature for helping me to deal with myself.