I used to travel a lot when I was younger, both for business and for pleasure. I've always had some anxiety, but it's gotten worse. Shouldn't I be older and wiser and less anxious? And lest anyone think it has anything to do with fear of traveling because of assholes killing me, nope. Fear of dying is way down on my list. It's much more terrifying to live each day.
I need to remind myself not to overclock my brain. Breathe. Experience now. Fuck yesterday. Fuck tomorrow. Right now is all we're guaranteed.
Maybe I'm anxious because this is my first trip being single, which seems kind of a lame reason to have anxiety. But that's what my gut is telling me. I can't call home in a panic and know that someone will be there for me as their first priority. I'm not anyone's first priority anymore. Which should be fine. I lived the first half of my life that way, because I was raised by wolves. It's a familiar feeling and one I know how to do, just one I thought I'd left behind. I guess you can never outrun your past.
I do have friends and family who would be there for me if I called in a panic, but I'm not the be-all and end-all for someone. And really, I'm pretty fucking self-sufficient, so none of this will probably even matter. And yet, it does. Now.
Breathe, Wendy.
Here's where I give myself the first of many pep-talks.
"Suck it up, Buttercup. You're fucking fine. In fact, you're almost living large, 13 days migraine-free and counting." My friends' advice ranged from "start drinking heavily" to "better living through pharmaceuticals." I'm leaning toward the old-fashioned method of aversive conditioning. Yes, I did just add a rubber-band to my packing list. For those unfamiliar with this method, it's pretty fkn easy. Just snap the rubber-band any time you start doing something you'd prefer not to. Also, if you need one in an emergency, they're pretty easy to find, unlike alcohol at 6 am.
I keep hoping that I'll run out of 'firsts' soon. My first business trip alone. My first birthday alone. My first holiday season alone. I may boycott Christmas this year. Don't worry, it won't be in a chickenshit Starbucks kind of way. I'll still wish you a Happy Christmas. I just won't be buying and decorating a tree for Kitten and me.
I do have friends and family who would be there for me if I called in a panic, but I'm not the be-all and end-all for someone. And really, I'm pretty fucking self-sufficient, so none of this will probably even matter. And yet, it does. Now.
Breathe, Wendy.
Here's where I give myself the first of many pep-talks.
"Suck it up, Buttercup. You're fucking fine. In fact, you're almost living large, 13 days migraine-free and counting." My friends' advice ranged from "start drinking heavily" to "better living through pharmaceuticals." I'm leaning toward the old-fashioned method of aversive conditioning. Yes, I did just add a rubber-band to my packing list. For those unfamiliar with this method, it's pretty fkn easy. Just snap the rubber-band any time you start doing something you'd prefer not to. Also, if you need one in an emergency, they're pretty easy to find, unlike alcohol at 6 am.
I keep hoping that I'll run out of 'firsts' soon. My first business trip alone. My first birthday alone. My first holiday season alone. I may boycott Christmas this year. Don't worry, it won't be in a chickenshit Starbucks kind of way. I'll still wish you a Happy Christmas. I just won't be buying and decorating a tree for Kitten and me.
[As you might have surmised, I had to take a business trip, which I haven't done in several months. And because I'm a paranoid mofo, I'm posting this after I've returned, so no one breaks in and kills my house-sitter. But I wrote all my posts in real-time, so just go with it. And know that I made it home safely, otherwise I wouldn't have posted this.]
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