I don’t remember what life was like before anxiety. It was always there, I’m sure, standing just over my shoulder waiting to stick a pin in my fun and games but I’m don’t think it kept me awake at night, shredding my dreams with its cruel words. Not like it does now.
There’s a lot going on right now and all of it’s ultimately positive and yet here she is, anxious me, come to share her tuppence worth.
I started a new role six weeks ago and I’m constantly anxious I’m not doing a good job. Even positive reinforcement, of which there has been plenty, makes me nervous when all I can see are the little things I could have done better. Like, duh, it’s called learning on the job. I hate that I can’t trust that I’m doing the best I can and in a few months time all this will have passed and I’ll be onto the next thing.
Glynn and I are buying a house and perhaps that’s really the underlying stress ingredient. It’s bloody amazing and exciting – and I’m so lucky to have the opportunity to really build a home with the best person. Like my friend says, this will be our little piece of the world but it’s A LOT.
So far things have been flowing quite smoothly so there’s nothing specific stressing me out, I think it’s more the grandness of our next chapter. Like, me owning a house, being responsible for it – being responsible for a mortgage. I keep hearing Ru’s voice, telling me: “Don’t fuck it up.”
I won’t, I can’t and I don’t think I could but still that voice, that anxious bitch within, won’t stop disasterising worst case scenarios. As usual I’m going to fight back, that’s all I know how to do and talking about it on here helps.