We arrived home Sunday morning. All was well. I was a little tired, but I was expecting that.
I wasn’t expecting so much anxiety. It feels like I stuffed so much down inside me during our trip to avoid ruining things that it’s seeping out of my cells now.
I’ve got all the old symptoms – I’m tired, but cannot rest. I’m quite terrified when I hear someone at the door or on the street. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I am sure friends I’ve asked for favors hate me. I am sure I’m letting down everyone. I am sure going away was a terrible idea and this is karma.I’m not eating. I have nightmares, nightmares about the terrible nightmare that I had on my trip. I can’t feel any bond with the kittens.
I think part of this is realizing I’m unhappy in an urban neighborhood. It’s too close to people. However, there is no choice in that matter because the City requires Laura to be a resident. Moving within the City is silly when we are planning to move during retirement.
Are the benefits I gained from this trip worth losing many days of life to recover? No one but me can answer that. If you try to answer for me, even quietly in your head, you don’t truly understand anxiety. Or self-determination.
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I honestly don’t know. I just know I am miserable. And incredibly sad and alone. Perhaps the switch will flip or maybe the other shoe will drop.
If you or a loved one is living with anxiety, please ask for help. Just enduring in silence actually damages everyone. Like any chronic illness, there’s a toll on your lives. Vacation isn’t supposed to be this hard. Neither should
everyday life.
