Still Waters

I'm feeling very calm at the moment.

"Oh, good for you!" you might say to me.

But the thing is, calm is not a state I am accustomed to. It's not something that feels natural. Harassed, stressed, lost, bemused, angry, befuddled, distracted and moody are all things I do on a daily basis. But not C-A-L-M.

I usually wake from a fitful, snorey, asthmatic sleep-like state, often after dreaming that I have been beset by zombies,* and stumble downstairs to flop on to the couch. The Lady and the babies dance around me in a flurry of breakfast, whilst I grunt and watch a random news channel through one rheum-encrusted eye. The Lady then brings me tea, not because I prefer it to coffee, but because she has had all the coffee - every last drop - and is now jumping through flaming hoops, reciting Welsh poetry and polishing the light-bulbs. Incapable of lifting the cup, I wait for it to become luke-warm before tipping it down my snore-battered gullet in one slosh. I then precede to sneeze repeatedly, twice a second, for the next fifteen minutes until I am completely worn out and ready for bed.

It's at that point I realise that I have to write a report, arrange a rehearsal, take the babies to the park, return DVD's that are attracting punishing late fines, have a driving lesson and spend three hours on public transport to travel to a two hour workshop in order to earn some money to give to the student loans company.

It is also at this point that I consider giving up entirely, putting the children into care, selling the missus on eBay and having myself committed to a home for the gently bewildered.

When every day starts this gleefully its difficult not to laugh (hysterically and for hours).

But now I feel C-A-L-M.

Calm just feels wrong, it's like everything is just so easy, my brain is functioning, rational decisions are being made in seconds, witty comments are coming out on cue. If this is how normal people feel all the time, its like they have been cheating at life - taking a cheery shortcut and heading me off at the pass, whilst I have struggled uphill under the weight of a metaphorical backpack filled with angst and recrimination.

Usually my mind is traversing a different time-zone but right now I am entirely present. I feel so controlled, so happy. Like the Buddha perhaps - or at least a cheery postman, one that always whistles, even when the dogs are after him.

But it is not right. Not normal. I keep on catching myself and thinking, "God I feel calm." That in it's self is alien. Plus, I'm worried that much of my creative output is dependent on a sense of unresolved guilt and self loathing and that all I'll be left with is this C-A-L-M.

I'm hoping it might go away of it's own accord.

Is it possible to get something for it? "Doctor, for the past eight years I have been suffering from Generalised Anxiety Disorder. It left without saying goodbye. I miss it."

If not, I may have to go out out and drink eight pints of Stella Artois and be insulting to everybody I respect and admire. It's worked before...

The thing is, I don't even fancy a drink at the moment. It's like my soul has spent a couple of months in the Priory without informing me. I might have reached a great spiritual epiphany but nobody has let me know about it. Maybe it was a prize from Readers Digest, but I threw the envelope away.

It's quite disconcerting. Worrying in fact. Perhaps its a genetic illness, my grandfather was manic-depressive. He spent a lot of time on mental wards making strange noises. Maybe it's a chemical imbalance, something caused by a small tumour on a gland somewhere. It could even be something terrible growing in my head. Oh god, what's happening to me? I feel terrible! I can't breathe. Oh god I feel anxious!

Ahhh, that's better.

It' good to be back.

*On average I have about two zombie dreams a month. I don't know why. Lately I have started to quite enjoy them.