I have woken up with anxiety. This happens when I have plans for the day or the upcoming days. (I mean, it happens when I don’t too but not usual on waking.)
Today is therapy day. I have had quite a lot of different kinds of therapy since childhood and have mostly found that I feel enormous responsibility to lead the session. To be insightful. To offer up my own suggestions on what I think is wrong with me or how I think I could be helped. I have to be good at therapy. The thought of going into a session and saying, ‘I feel nothing today. I want you to do all the work.’ Well, that makes me want to vomit.
Maybe I will say this to him?
Also with the kids coming tomorrow, my mind is racing about all the things I need to do. Food shopping. Sort their beds out. Clean. It really is no big deal but when I have a list of things that need doing it immediately becomes a source of anxiety. I think it comes from my days of caring full-time for Sonny, when that took up all my mental energy and anything else on top of that became an impossible task. It’s muscle memory. I know what I need to do. Meditate. Be mindful. DO the tasks.
Sidenote- anyone out there find vacuuming so intensely stressful that it brings on a panic attack? I have a terrible time with vacuuming. I get so angry that the machine doesn’t pick up every single piece of fluff and hair that I spent 5x as long, on my knees, using the smaller head, going over the same bit 10 times. I end up feeling so violent. However, I will then put off vacuuming for weeks, seemingly unphased by all the fluff and bits and hair.
It’s as if my brain tells me;
If you don’t do it, you can’t fail at it.