Almost a week out from our 12 hour flight to Hawaii, my favorite place on earth. I cannot wait. I wish I was in a position to never return to my reality here at home. When I say that I mean my job; day to day as I know it, relationships I have with certain people that drain my energy. Since I was little I always looked forward to going on vacations – any excuse to run away from difficult situations and my anxiety.
That’s what I usually do. Situations that make me anxious drain my energy and the only way I recharge is when I escape. Otherwise the life gets sucked out of me and I feel like I’m drowning slowly and everyone is just standing around watching me screaming for help but not hearing me. Reaching for a hand but they turn a blind eye. The life drains out of my eyes and no one notices.
My husband and I went to see Logan this morning at the movies. I try to avoid the movies at all costs because sitting still and being overstimulated for hours gives me more torture than pleasure (thanks GAD) but every so often I make an exception and suffer through it for a movie my husband really wants to see that I do too. For those of you who have seen it, Logan dies saving his daughter Laura. While Logan is taking his last breaths the two share an emotional moment where he pretty much tells her that he cares about her despite not showing her much love and emotion throughout the movie, even after finding out she is his daughter. So why am I telling you this? As the lights came on I realized I was sobbing. Yes, it was sad when Logan died but I think sub consciously I was thinking about my own relationship with my Dad. My Dad has a wall up with me, and visa versa. We don’t show emotion to eachother. We don’t interact like a father and daughter typically do. He doesn’t even really acknowledge me. Seeing Logan finally let his guard down with Laura made me so happy. How would she have felt living the rest of her life if he didn’t let her how he cared about her? Would she have regrets? Would she feel alone? They say actions speak louder than words; and I agree, but sometimes, especially when it isn’t obvious how one feels through action, words are necessary too.
Ok that was deep. Anyway, I have a busy week ahead at work as I prepare to be out of the office for almost 2 weeks. I have no back up so whatever I don’t finish will be waiting for me when I return. And that burden will be weighing on me the entire time I’m gone. Yay.
Did I mention I can’t wait to get away? Oh and that I’m terrified of flying? That my anxiety is ruining my life? Well I am, it is. But I’ll get through it. Always do somehow some way.
Oh and 4/9 is our 5 year wedding anniversary. Staying at the place we were married in Hawaii. ❤️
My cat has a growth on her ear and I’m afraid it’s something bad. This cat was there for me when no one else was. Send good thoughts her way that it’s nothing bad please! 😻
Have a great week. 🙅👙🐬🐠🌺🌴☀️🌊
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.
So hubby and I are on vacation in the Florida Keys. Everything is great. I survived the two flights here with panic that I could somewhat control and everything went off without a hitch. We have been down here since Sunday afternoon doing some exploring and relaxing on the beach. My Grandmother lives in Florida so I don’t get to see her much since we live in New York. When she heard the news that we were coming to the Keys for vacation she asked me if her and my Mother could join. I checked with hubby and hesitated to say yes, but only for a few days. They arrived last night.
The resort that we are staying at is large and there is a lot to do. The grounds are beautiful. Last night the 4 of us had dinner. Hubby and I got a little too much sun so we weren’t feeling the best. It was busy in the restaurant so I was quiet, trying to keep my anxiety at bay and observing what was going on around me. This includes my Mother. I watched her daze off while everyone is talking and suddenly snap out of it, telling us she was going to go out and have a cigarette since it was taking so long to get our food. My immediate reaction was really? We’re in a nice restaurant on the resort and you’re going to get up, leave the restaurant and smoke by the pool (which is a non smoking area). I said something of course and she got upset, but from my perspective it just seemed rude. After a few minutes I began to think: was this her anxiety? Was she looking for an excuse to get a breather because she was uncomfortable too? Then I figured if I can suffer through an hour with the family she can too. Plus I was delaying her smoking so I may have added a few minutes to her life. Right?
We finish eating and by this time it is dark. Mom wants to walk around and see the resort. My Grandmother is 80 years young (😌) but you wouldn’t be able to tell if it wasn’t for her exterior. She may look 80 but mentally she’s sharp and witty. Sarcastic and loving. I like to think we’re a lot a like in that regard. She had 2 knee replacements about 25 years ago and put on a good amount of weight. She isn’t in the best physical shape and the only walking she really does is a few feet from chair to chair. She is old give her a break!
Well my Mother decides that we need to power walk the grounds in the dark (some of it is lit, some isn’t) and she’s bringing Granny along. My poor Grandma can barely breathe let alone keep up with her. My Mom seems to get pleasure out of this, almost like she thinks she is doing some good getting Grandma some physical exercise. Meanwhile I’m getting horrible anxiety because as I hear my Grandma breathing heavily all I can think of is her collapsing or falling and something serious happen or she is hospital bound the rest of he trip. Leave it to my crazy Mom to royally screw this up. As I watched my Grandma bee line it down the hallway to the chair in her room I thought to myself I better say something to Mom. My Mom is not self aware and she’s been known to do insensitive things from time to time.
We got to the room and Granny tells us she loves us and will see us tomorrow with the little air that she has in her lungs and heads in to take a seat. Mom walks in after her and I ask her to come into the hallway. I nicely explained to her what I witnessed. She brushed it off acting like Grandma needed it and I was being too sensitive. Maybe I was but just because I didn’t want anything to happen to her and I saw how bad she was struggling. If my anxiety has taught me anything it’s that everyone struggles with something and having a little empathy for someone can make their life a lot easier. There is no worse feeling than being ashamed of yourself due to your limitations, mentally or physically. I understand that we grow by pushing ourselves but everyone has limits.
My Grandfather passed away a few years ago now. He was very athletic until he was diagnosed with dementia the last 10 years of his life. On vacations he was right alongside the kids laughing and doing physical things. He was always the opposite of Grandma. My Mom was a Daddy’s girl and I think she misses having him around during times like these. But Grandma is who she is and she is 80 and not fit to run a marathon. When I think of my Mom I think of her as being 35-40 years old in my mind (she is 55). Perhaps that’s how she thinks of my Grandma.
Needless to say I hope that we can have fun and accommodate Grandma the rest of the trip without my Mom giving her (or I) a heart attack. We are still here 2 more full days and I’m already having anxiety over the flight home and starting a new job on Monday. When I booked this trip I was so excited thinking I would be able to relax and get my mind right before starting the new job. Then the vacation is here and the reality sets in: my disorder follows me everywhere. I can’t escape it to matter how hard I try. It probably doesn’t help that my family hijacked my vacation but the anxiety would be here regardless. It is what it is.
And with that, it’s almost 4am, I’ve been up all night and Mom has an action packed day planned so I better try to put my anxious mind to bed. Wish me luck.
It’s getting closer to me finding out my fate with my company after the merger goes through. The head of the department I work in at the bank that is taking us over will be in the office tomorrow.
All of this is giving me such bad anxiety. My weekend has been full of high blood pressure, dizzy spells and nausea. It’s sad that I can’t even enjoy my time away from work due to the stress work is putting on my mind.
Good news is that I survived several long in person meetings last week that I was freaking out about. I had to excuse myself only once to get some air – which I was mortified to do – until I came back and realized these people could care less. Luckily there were several people in the meeting with me.
My husband has been dying to see the movie Deadpool. Movies give me anxiety too of course – being trapped in a seated position for a couple hours is torture – but I told him I’d go with him if went to the earliest showing they had. So we’re going at 10:45am. And I’m going to give it everything I have to sit there with him the entire time and actually try and enjoy myself. After all, he let me pick the seats and everything. And it’s the least I can do after what he’s put up with the past few weeks with me, not to mention his own issues. Panic attacks, turning down plans, he had foot surgery…I suck.
It’s currently 6am and I’ve been rolling around in bed since 3am. Anxiety drains me both physically and mentally and it doesn’t even allow me to rest when I’m exhausted beyond words. Anxiety is a bitch and I hate her.
I’m going on vacation in April, which I’m excited and anxious about due to the flights but if I can do 24 hours of flying in 2 weeks I can do 6 hours in 1 week. My mom and grandma are hijacking part of our trip and are staying at our resort. It won’t be that bad but my mom tends to make my hyper so I won’t be able to relax as much as I had hoped. The week before we go my step dad announced that he’s coming up to stay with me for a week.
Are these people serious!? I’m an medicated anxious wreck right now that’s anxious about everything and they want to come stay with me and hijack my vacation around the time I hope to be starting a new job. I’m going to need a vacation from the month of April. STRESS.
I’ll get through it. Always do somehow. Today I’m thankful for my husband, my rock. Who could easily be giving me a hard time about my anxiety levels lately and my family taking over our lives in April. But he’s not. He’s telling me we will get though it. It will be good to see them since I only see my parents annually. I’m stronger than I think I am. That I’m the strongest person he knows. I don’t know how he does it with me…I really don’t. 😍