The dreaded Sunday… the end of another few days of rest… I’ve watched several movies this weekend, vegging on the couch and trying to just relax, which can be a hard thing sometimes when you have anxiety. I think I’ve been pretty successful. Watching movies inspires me to write more often and when I’ve watched a good one, my writing consistency peaks, for which I’m thankful.
I’ve daydreamed quite a bit, mostly words. Words floating through my head, pulling my heartstrings. I haven’t quite been able to put them down on paper yet. Maybe because I’m not trying hard enough, more likely because I just lack the motivation.
I have so many things to do still, but the anxiety keeps me stationed on the couch. It’s anxiety over how much I have left to do- dishes, laundry, cleaning. I know that if I just took things one at a time it might be a bit less overwhelming, yet I still cannot bring myself to move from my spot. It’s a vicious cycle. I took the Girls earlier to the grocery store to pick up food for dinner and as usual, the brightness and colors and sounds were what else? Overwhelming. I detest being in public. At work it isn’t so bad, but anything else is a struggle. Normal things, normal things everyone else are able to do are difficult for me. It didn’t always used to be like this. Well, maybe it did.
When I lived in my hometown it was always a bit nervewrecking, if not frustrating, to go out. In order to keep a tight reign on me, Kay used to have her friends and their children keep an eye on me. It never mattered where I went, I always knew there would be eyes on me, watching my every move and reporting back to her. It was this way when I was in the abusive relationship as well. Both Kay and Q (the Abusive Ex) could tell me everywhere I had gone, everything I had stopped to look at, nearly every thought I had at any given time. Captivity at it’s finest.
I sometimes think this is why I have such a hard time making decisions for myself, even the simplest of them such as what I’m going to make for dinner. Even when I’ve made up my mind, when I think I’ve made up my mind, I find myself at the store second guessing myself. I worry that I’m buying more of what I don’t need, more of what I already have plenty of. When I was in the abusive relationship, buying more of what you already have plenty of was grounds for physical correction. True, I am no longer in that relationship, but old habits die hard I suppose.
Last week was difficult for me, emotionally and mentally, and really for no reason at all. My Mister, he was wonderful throughout it all. He did all of the right things, said all of the right words. He is simply perfect. I did have a few days of anxiety where my screwed up brain tried to convince me that the Mister was tired of me, it was hard on me. I tried not to backslide into that same old pattern that depression has me in so often. That was hard as well, but I’m feeing much better the past two days.
Sometimes it’s hard to break old habits, build and strengthen new, positive ways of thinking. I know it’s worth it in the end but Lord, the path there can be so hard. There. I’ve written a bit today. Now I don’t feel so unproductive. Back to my scheduled movie marathon. 😄