The Dream Me
Autumn has rolled into Huntsville and I’m torn. We’ve got so much going this year, stuff I’ve been referencing as “Fall” that I’m supposed to be doing, and Fall is here and I don’t have the time to do it all and suddenly these cool, cloudy days are sending me into CRAZY PANIC ATTACKS. GIVE ME MY SUMMER BACK! I’m not READY yet…JEEBUS.
I’ve taken some of your advice lately and been trying to turn nightly tea into a ritual. An anti-anxiety ritual that doesn’t involve eating 14 bowls of cereal or 12 peanut butter sandwiches. It’s kinda working, I guess. I miss the nightly binging, tea doesn’t quite do what a full belly does, but it’s something.
I’ve been talking to people a lot lately about what they do to unwind. Some shop, some take baths, some just go out for drinks with friends. All of those seem nice but the people who kill me are the ones who clean or COOK to unwind. Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I have an actual therapeutic desire to cook or clean? Do you know how much EASIER life would be if I had to cook or clean to calm my anxiety? THAT WOULD BE AWESOME.
Oh…OH! What if I had this unquenchable need to scrub toilets when I was stressed? Or wash bedding? Or…OR…DUST BASEBOARDS? Man. Can you imagine? I’d live in the cleanest house EVER.
For now? It’s eating and beer. So I’m starting by trying to substitute the ritual of making tea. And it’s close enough to eating and beer that I’m kind of fooling myself a bit. *sigh* Maybe someday I can train myself to clean when I’m stressed. A girl can dream…