Some years ago, I had a horse who was a 'fencewalker,' as we call it. That horse would pace up and the down the fenceline of her paddock, relentless, neurotic, like you see big cats doing in zoos. Drove me and yard owners fucking nuts. Trashed paddocks. Not very healthy for the horse (though she lived until she was 28). It's an anxiety-based behaviour, and I knew some of the horse's triggers and tried to control them as much as possible, but it was a hopeless game of whack-a-mole; she could still confound me and start pacing even when I thought I'd hit all the moles. But I also understood her. Because if I was a horse, I would be a terrible fencewalker. Up and down, for hours. A thing triggers an anxiety cascade, and your mind is gone. But I don't pace a fenceline; I pace the internet. Hopping around websites, but not really settling or reading or writing much of anything. Looking hopelessly for a big enough dopamine hit to just....stop, but of course there isn't one.
Eventually, I will find the willpower to click on BBC iPlayer and watch a Doctor Who episode, but until I achieve that, I'm up and down the world wide web. Hell, maybe why this why I've become a Doctor Who addict. I 'get' the Doctor, pacing up and down all of time and space, looking for those dopamine hits to calm down something in his brain not even bloody Time Lords understand.
