I am so, so tired of being crazy.
Anxiety is exhausting.
And right now I am feeling very crazy and am beyond exhausted.
Why? Mostly because I have a follow-up doctor's appointment in a week. And I've been dreading it for a month. Have I gotten the blood work done I was supposed to get?
Have I gotten a mammogram, a colonoscopy, or an appointment with the dermatologist?
Of course not.
I simply cannot make myself do these things. I believe I would literally rather die.
And I adore my doctor. He is all things good.
No matter how hard I try to figure out why I have this horrible aversion about going to the doctor and anything medically related, I can't but I know I've had it for as long as I can remember and it's only gotten worse with each passing year. And for the past few weeks I've woken up every morning feeling as if might puke or pass out. Mostly pass out. Which I have never done in my life. And I cry. A sixty-three year old woman who cries because she has to go to the damn doctor.
And I'm not exaggerating here. I am not just being dramatic. This is simply the way it is.
Tomorrow is my thirty-third wedding anniversary and there is not enough room left in my psyche to appreciate that one bit. I mean, I do. I do. But to feel the joy about it that I should?
And that is how evil anxiety is. It wipes away logic and enjoyment and joy. It washes everything with darkest charcoal and lurid scarlet.
Well. Time to take a walk and try to work off some of this damn adrenalin.
That's what's happening in my world.
What's going on in yours?