Cold Walks Part 1.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had this innate fear of people. I could never pinpoint exactly where it stemmed from. I’m not one for crowds. I don't consider myself as the type of person to “fit-in” anywhere. I am either unique or weird; you choose the appropriate adjective.
Walking is something I have grown to love since the global pandemic began. Why? Walking helps my anxiety. Anxiety I did not know I had for sure until I was diagnosed this year. After 2 and 1/2 decades of sweaty palms, labored breathing, and lame excuses for staying in, my life finally made sense.
Humans are social creatures, right? Wrong. There was a time in my life where I would fabricate my entire schedule to avoid human contact. I felt unworthy of conversation. My self-esteem was lower than a contortionist doing the limbo. I was a burden on the world and everyone who had the displeasure of meeting me.
This attitude and perspective may be repulsive to some, but the reality is that the voice in the heads of billions is constantly repeating to people worldwide. Sometimes the voice screams, sometimes the voice whispers.
I have only recently been able to silence the voice and add a new feature to the soundtrack of my psyche and consciousness: my own. I was able to do this through long, cold walks in the park. I met myself for the first time in my entire life during a series of these cold walks.
