I’m off on holiday tomorrow!
Like an actual holiday where you go abroad.
Am I excited you ask? … Excited I say, what’s that?
Scared? Petrified? Frightened? Nervous? Worried? Apprehensive? Anxious?
… That’s more like it.
I’m going with Glen and my Mum.
I would have liked to go with just Glen but because I haven’t been abroad since I was diagnosed I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of just the two of us going.
Don’t get me wrong it’s not that I don’t trust him to look after me or anything, it’s just that I don’t trust myself.
The way I see it; it’s a bigger support circle for when I panic. More people to help hold me down, pin me to the floor, make me see sense and get myself under some resemblance of control.
I wish I could look forward to things like this but my mind just works differently and all I think about is possible outcomes of possible disasters.
Sometimes I think I don’t even know what feeling excited feels like anymore.
Constant worrying overshadows every other emotion I could ever hope to feel.
The endless game of “what if” governs my life.
What if this happens…
What if that happens…
What if. What if. What if.
It’s like I can’t even decide what I’m more anxious about; the airport, the flight or the actual holiday being abroad in a foreign country bit.
They all seem so overwhelmingly daunting.
The busyness of the airport.
The imprisonment of the flight.
The unfamiliarity of the location.
But I’m going to do this (sighs – *begrudgingly*)!
I’ve doubled my anxiety medication for the time being and I’m also armed with bottles (yes plural) of Rescue Remedy.
I’ll just have to see how it goes I suppose. Remember to breathe and just do my best not to panic!