Frozen

The thing that people don't tell you about campaigning is how often you will feel frozen. I'm sitting home alone on a Friday night trying to watch Hocus Pocus 2 and take a short reprieve from the duties screaming at me, but all I can think is: Do the dishes. Put away the blanket. Call that contact. Fix your Instagram-to-Facebook link. Make flashcards for your debate. Go grocery shopping. Take a slow, deep breath...your heart is beating quickly again and your anxiety levels are rising!

In fight or flight or freeze - I think I freeze first - like a deer in the headlights. Okay, so I just googled the question, "What is it like to feel like a deer in the headlights" and the response is pretty spot on: 

When people are in a state of extreme surprise, fear or confusion, we say they are like deer caught in headlights. They seem so frightened that they cannot think clearly. They do not know what to do, so they do not do anything. Sometimes we shorten the phrase and say, "like a deer in headlights." (link here)

"They do not know what to do, so they do not do anything." F.R.O.Z.E.N. Extreme. 

I knocked doors last night with my brother-in-law Josef and without prompting, he would tell people that answered the door that I'm a woman of "action." I was so touched by that sentiment and his belief in me. He later said that he's only doing this [canvassing] because he believes I'm a good person (he's not usually politically active and generally thinks that politics can go to H**L, so this was extra touching).

Am I a woman of action? I don't feel like it is in these moments when I'm frozen. Frozen in fear. Frozen in self-doubt. Frozen in that space of such incredible overwhelm that you can't possibly move into that space where baby steps exist and little movements matter. 

My heart is still beating. I'm one more sad thought away from crying in the dark while Hocus Pocus 2 is paused and the only light is the glow of my orange Halloween lights on the shelf that I so carefully put together in a different space of reprieve: that space of creation. Action. 

I started therapy again during this campaign season. I reached out to my therapist and said, "I need help," and we've uncovered more pieces of my SELF that I didn't know existed. It makes sense that the vulnerability of campaigning would bring me to new pieces of my heart, mind, and soul. I'm just so grateful I have a guide to unlock those pieces with. My desire to unlock those pieces could be called action. Today, my therapist told me it is courage. "You know what I'm seeing in you as you are going through this process? Courage. You have courage Audryn."

Okay, so now I am crying, but it's because her words touched me. I felt seen. And heard. And valued. Courage. I may be frozen sometimes - and so will you. Campaigning is a strange sort of internal battle with yourself that certainly involves courage, but you will, one hundred percent guaranteed, feel frozen at times. 

All cards on the table, I don't always know how to step out of the headlights and into the safe space of baby steps, sight, and action. Sometimes I fitfully attempt to sleep, get a mere 4 hours, and then work an entire day and pass out postcards like my life depends on it (another story for another post), but I'm grateful to have you. My readers. My reflection space. My writing. 

I didn't freeze in this moment. I took action. I shared my thoughts with YOU. And that feels like something more than frozen.