I’m trying to ignore my stress. Next week I will deal with it I tell myself. Next Week. After the birthday and the associated party. Next week.
The trouble is the stress doesn’t like being ignored. It makes bubbles in my stomach. It makes it hard to concentrate. Yesterday it made me scared of the front door, I kept thinking I could see a person outside about to ring the doorbell and upbraid me for letting them down. I lurked in the back half of the house, kitchen door shut (it’s never shut), so I could convincingly pretend to be out when the doorbell rang. Which it didn’t. I had the kids in the back garden after school so they didn’t run and answer the door to the non existent ring and give the game away. Which wasn’t all bad, being outside, in the fresh air, gardening was mainly good for me (aside from trying to supervise two medium size children who wanted to help with secateurs and garden shears).
And it makes me tired. Really tired.
But good things I have done. I emailed the counselor and asked for an appointment. And today I made a GP appt for Monday after having forgotten to yesterday. Now I just have to go. And talk to him. Which I’m not looking forward to. At All.
Less good things, haven’t opened my email in 2 days as I’m so scared of it. So no idea if I can have appointment with the conselor. Haven’t spoken to husband as he was stressed out about stuff enough himself.
So, today I’m trying to do little bits of dealing with it to the best of my abilities. To help myself where I can and work up to the harder stuff. And I’m sick of this. I’m sick of it going on so long. It is years now. Years. I don’t want to live the rest of my life like this. I have a sort of fantasy about moving away and restarting, rebooting my life without the anxiety, except I can’t even enjoy that because I know it wouldn’t solve anything and I’m not up to organising it.