I don't know if it has always been there or not but right now it is kind of getting hard to deal with. I don't know how severe this gets but right now, I am feeling it and it doesn't feel good. It just makes you feel so vulnerable, your body temperature starts rising and you start sweating in an air conditioned room. You feel that going out will be the solution but maybe it isn't, you don't even know if you can walk till there or not, all you know is that this isn't right.
I use writing as a source of peace, it helps me let out whatever I have inside my system. Good, bad & ugly, all out right in front of me as I type and feel my heartbeat becoming slower. I always have wondered why does this happen? I have worked in tense situations, so why now? The answer to this could be drawn using a parallel.
We all have seen movies, where soldiers come back home from tense regions and can't adjust back to the normal surroundings. You see, after you've spend each second training yourself to stay alive, how can you be expected to forget all of that and live in harmony and a condition what people call peace. It is the same with us workaholics. We work too hard. The reasons for that could be:
a. We actually love our work
b. Ambition to make something out of our lives
c. Running away from real work
Most workaholics are a mixture of all three, they love what they're doing (or they make themselves love whatever they're doing), they want to do something good with their lives and they are somewhere using this addiction towards work as an excuse to get away from other problems. In this case, each moment you spend on your battlefield a.k.a. office desk, becomes Afghanistan. Where you're looking behind your shoulder for the enemy, while aiming to shoot down another in front of you. It is the same, or even worse because when it is a matter of life and death you have this latent energy which helps you get through that. It makes you more alert, which keeps you alive. At the office, your computer tires you, bleeds the life out of your brain and your eyes. No, you don't die here. You end up in this place where no one wants to be - mediocre level. You just slog and slog, without an end which can be seen and just try not to be sucked into the whirlpool life is creating for you. Sometimes, trying means fighting a hundred people and their egos.
So how can you expect this person to come back home and not freak out about things which might be pending while he's with his family? A call from the boss changes the mood, does the trick and pushes him over the edge and I still haven't talked about the personal life of this particular person.
By writing this down, I not only did understand why I get my anxiety bursts from but also how to get rid of them.
Writing for the soul.