If you need me, I’ll be huddled in a ball in the closet.

I’ve been having panic attacks all day long.  It’s not too surprising.  Yesterday was, well, it wouldn’t have been too stressful for someone who didn’t have to watch every penny.  For someone who does…

It’s been hard to make myself leave the house even long enough to take the dogs for a walk.  There are other things I need to do, like take books back to the library, that just seem beyond my grasp right now.

I’m wondering if going back to school was the right decision, and even if it really was my decision.  I don’t like being pushed into things, but am too much of a whimp to push back.  So I generally go along, and then, when I think I can get out of doing whatever it is someone else wants me to do, quit.

And that’s why I’ve never accomplished anything in my life.

Actually, that’s not true.  I had to fight to go on a mission.  I’m glad I went, I’m glad I stayed for the late transfer.  (LDS missions for young women are 18 months, with transfers, where you could possibly change the area of service and/or your companion every 6 weeks.  Because of this timing, the transfers are either 3 weeks before your 18 month mark, or 3 weeks after.  The sister I went to Canada with went home on the early transfer.  I stayed for the later one) But still…when I got home it didn’t take me long to realize that the Canad Winnipeg Mission didn’t need me, I needed the Canada Winnipeg Mission.

I’ve tried to channel some of this anxiety into my writing, but with utter failure.  Yes, I want my characters and my readers to feel tension, but trying to write it when having a panic-attack day…well, it’s like pouring oil onto a fire.

I’m jumping all over today.  I hope you’re following.

The dream I had before waking up this morning was…well, odd, even for a dream.  I was listening to/watching a music video for a country song.  I don’t HATE country music, but I don’t remember the last time I chose to listen to it.  Well, except for some of the old-school singers, like Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson or Patsy Cline.  Anyway…

The song was a woman who had called to talk to someone about her life.  She was saying that everything was good, that she had moved on, and found a new love.  The chorus of the song went “I just wanted you to know.  Tell Joe.”

Like I said, I don’t listen to country music, so I don’t know if that’s a real song or not–it’s very possible that I was really hearing it from the clock radio of one of my neighbors.  If that’s the case, I’m super embarrassed.

Assuming it’s not, though…

I am starting a new chapter in my life, one that I’m terrified of.  Maybe my subconscious is telling me that while it is going to be hard, everything will be fine.

Part of me wants to say that I don’t know who “Joe” is, but I do.  I hope it was just a convenient name that rhymes with “know”, but more likely, I’m being told to let go of a good friend and crush, who moved away and recently dumped me from his Facebook friends.

I hope that as I start school, as I get into my new routine, things will get easier.  They should, right?

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5 responses to “If you need me, I’ll be huddled in a ball in the closet.”

  1. The Parent says :

    I love you for who you are. It’s not easy. Nobody said it would be. Is it worth it?

  2. Stop Anxiety says :

    I can fully sympathise – my sister is unable to drive outside of the town she lives in….on the other hand I do not have problems if I am driving as I am in control, I do have problems as a passenger as I am not. My therapist told me today that anxiety is not about a place or an activity but about the thoughts you associate with that task and thoughts can be changed, which I found encouraging and I now have to believe this to be true. Cut yourself some slack and take baby steps Love and light

  3. RoreNeolf says :

    Just want to say what a great blog you got here!
    I’ve been around for quite a lot of time, but finally decided to show my appreciation of your work!

    Thumbs up, and keep it going!

    Cheers
    Christian, iwspo.net

  4. peelingtheorange says :

    “Like oil to fire”. Ummmm, that’s a sweet line right there. Is the risk of an artist when comes to writing. When you want to express to your readers the entire scene, it’s not like you get emotional again, but I think we must learn to use memories just as a testimony, not as a source of old sop-operas. Yes, pain is real, there are seasons, but who need a rehearsal? Not us! Great Job here!!!
    ~I like to read something like this, sound honest, simple, fun.
    Keep the great work,blessing to you!!!
    Mirian from peelingtheorange.

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