Angst [äNG(k)st] noun
1. a feeling of deep anxiety or dread, typically an unfocused one about the human condition or the state of the world in general
There is a whole lot of angst in America, our community and our homes. It is a word I frequently use, as I am (as my parents always called me) a worry wart. From the time I entered elementary school, I have been a worrier. I would get sick to my stomach before big events: first day of school, book report days, big test days, any time on stage. I was a mess from an early age. I wouldn’t only worry about my personal life, but I would listen or watch the news and worry about the human condition. The Vietnam War was still raging when I was a little human, and I would take my worries about those affected deep into my psyche, disrupting my sleep and haunting my thoughts. It was not the cause of my personal modus operandi and development of my person, but watching, hearing and discussing the news of the day had a profound effect on me, and helped me create angst in my own life.
I have been a news junkie since the nightly news played in my home at the tender age of 8 or 9. I could caution all parents out there to back off the news in their homes, but I think if we are to become caring and involved individual cogs in the great big circle of interconnecting gears in this world, we need to know what is going on and make our wheel squeaky when needed.
My parents actually took me to our family physician when my childhood angst was a bit more than they could bear. My bouts of “nervous asthma,” “nervous tummy” and fitful sleep with lots of trips up and down the stairs at night because I couldn’t sleep (I remember lots of these trips and tears) would be treated very differently today than they were in the 1960s, I am sure. I was probably 10 years old when my doctor sat me down and told me I had to stop. It sounds very harsh, but he suggested that I channel my worry and my angst and do something whenever I was getting nervous. He urged me to think about something else. He taught me that I had to find a way to cope, to change, to readjust my thought processes to focus on something other than what was causing me angst. I did and I do. I have learned to shift my anxiety with work, projects, writing, cooking, walking, photography or whatever I can do to shift my thoughts. As a kid I began reading, making music, singing, studying whatever was of interest at the moment, writing journals, taking pictures, playing and working outdoors, riding and caring for horses …everything I could think of to keep me from anxiety that swirled in my head. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop” or so the Bible told me. I have not sought psychiatric help with my angst, but I urge you to do so if you are feeling the heavy feelings of dread and despair frequently. My doc was more of a psychiatrist than either of us may have realized.
Angst has been the name of the game for me for the last couple of months. My politics have morphed and adapted and just plain changed over the decades, and I probably wrote missives very different in my 20s than I do now, but I am not shy about sending a letter (in the old days) or an email now to my congress(wo)men and senators. With our President winning only 49.8% of the popular vote, there is a whole lot of angst out there by the other 50.2% of voters. I feel passionately about some political topics, so have written my thoughts to my government representatives. But it’s not just the federal government that creates my angst. My local reps, school board and selectboard members often get a page of my words with whatever I am thinking. The world changes, we are fed a constant stream of information, and we need to sort, file and act on that information so that we can assuage those feelings of angst when they become unbearable.
This week has been a tough one for me and I have been “Debby Downer” as my son fondly calls me. We are behind in our woods preparation for the all-important maple season and have been concentrating on a huge project replacing our syrup-making equipment, which has been an angst-inspiring project. I worry about the coming springtime weather and how it might affect our crops. I worry about a lot — all of the time — so have been trying to put that angst into productivity as I have since I was 10. I cook a lot when I am angst-filled and my fridge is now stuffed with all manner of yumminess (I try not to wear all of this goodness on my frame). I have picked up the camera a lot this week, taking snaps of whatever I find moving or beautiful. I have written a few more poems that sit in my still unpublished stack of word art. I have binge-watched some distracting shows. I have taken a few minutes here and there to meditate and try to settle my soul. I have done some deep cleaning in the house and some rearranging of furniture.
Whatever it takes, whether it is a trip to your doctor to help you cope with angst and anxiety or to self-diagnose and treat personally, I urge you to face your anxiety and angst head-on. Feeling helpless or anxious is a physical as well as a mental problem, and I urge you to solve that problem for yourselves however it works for you before it gets out of control. Today I will be picking up the camera and maybe trying to make some donuts.
