They say if you can get through a situation or task that makes you anxious, the next time that you do it you won’t be as anxious as you were the time before. That each time you put yourself in that situation or perform that task, it should get easier. Right? Wrong. I get through anxious situations every day and the next time I’m in that situation I’m still as anxious as I was the first time I’ve ever done it.
My husband and I have been on vacation in Cape Cod for a few days now. I love going on vacations and getting away. I hate having to eat out every meal. We are staying at an amazing bed and breakfast which is good because we don’t have to go out for breakfast. But that still leaves 2 meals. I have a hard time going out to dinner at home when I’m in restaurants I’ve eaten at several times before. But in a place I’m not familiar with its 10x worse. This is a family vacation place and surprisingly there aren’t a ton of places to eat around us. That said, every place is loud, crowded, hot and smells like seafood.
We had lunch at a nice British pub this afternoon and the food was great. The entire time we were in there I felt completely overstimulated, like I could keel over at any minute. I looked around me and everyone was laughing, calm and enjoying themselves. Even my husband. Why couldn’t I do the same? I found myself rushing the entire experience and not being present in the moment. It sucked.
I feel bad for my husband. He wants nothing more than to take me out for a nice dinner or date night and I never want to go. I want to not be anxious so bad but every time I end up not enjoying myself because of my anxiety and he can tell. I can never relax.
The most annoying part about having anxiety is how pissed off I get with myself for having it. When I’m having an attack doing something that normal people find relaxing and enjoyable I get really frustrated. I would do anything to make it go away. To live in the moment. To let my hair down. My body and mind tell me I’m not going to make it yet after an hour of feeling that way I walk out of the restaurant relieved that I made it through. I didn’t die. Why is my mind telling me that I’m going to? Why did I just suffer through that hour? Do I want to have to excuse myself and go outside for some air? No, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I did and I know my husband would understand. I hold it all in and suffer because I don’t want to look weird. I don’t want him to worry. I want to have a normal moment with my husband at a restaurant. Why is that so hard?!
Even through I survived, next time will be just as hard. It never gets better. This is so frustrating to live with.
We leave tomorrow to go home. Not looking forward to 8 hours in the car but looking forward to my house. My bed. My furry kids. 😻😻😻
Just had to get that out. Time to watch the sunset on the beach and get eaten by bugs. Worth it. The sight makes me feel zen.