Cool things about this week:
- Yesterday I was invited to a meeting with the professor that I took a class with last semester and a student with a similar area of research interest (breastfeeding) as me that might lead to a really cool project.
- I also got info on a class to take next semester that will hopefully be the next step on the path to becoming a matriculated graduate student.
- Today Z’s Mom, sister, and our niece are coming to visit for a few days.
- Today I ran two miles without stopping for the first time in my entire life.
- Tomorrow Z and I are going to go get massages, go out to dinner, and go to a local hotel for the night.
- Saturday our amazing friends will watch the boys as we drive to Baltimore so Z can get his 40th birthday tattoo.
- We will spend the night in a hotel.
- I am saying two nights in a hotel in one week, people. We haven’t done anything that decadent since we became parents almost 4 years ago.
Good things. Tons of good things happening right now. So why do I feel like the anxiety is suffocating me? Why do I want to run away? Why do I want to weep? Why do I want to fall asleep and never wake up?
The anxiety, she creeps in when the going gets good and she whispers to me that I don’t deserve any of it. That I will manage to fuck it up. That I am a burden and a disappointment and by the way we are broke, who the hell do we think we are going to hotels and getting tattoos and having fun?
I get it. I do. I’m engaging in life and this is the cost. The anxiety gets worse. But if I manage to do this stuff she doesn’t win. I win. And if I manage to do this stuff once it becomes easier to do it the next time. I’ll arm myself with my chill pills and I will get through this week.
It sounds ungrateful doesn’t it? That all these amazing things are happening and I’m dreading them. I had the same thought after I wrote about wanting to bail on the trip to the lake with our friends. How could I be so unappreciative about a generous offer to go to a lake house? What kind of friend am I?
Believe me, I am appreciative. For so much. For our friends, our family, the academic opportunities that are coming my way. It’s the agoraphobia. I want to do these things, yet I am terrified to do these things. If I choose to stay at home I feel safe. But the good news is staying at home is also making me frustrated. I feel like I’m missing out on my son’s lives. I feel like I’m missing out on my life. I’m embarrassed that engaging in the good parts of life is so hard for me. The anxiety doesn’t have to whisper I’m pathetic and ridiculous, I’ve already had the realization.
So many good things this week. I am fighting hard to actually enjoy them.
Pretty big rainstorm two nights ago.
T posed and said, “I look like a superhero.” He sure does.