I find I'm dealing with the anxiety again. I thought I had this disorder pretty much behind me with just an occasional, very occasional, reminder that the ogre lives. Maybe because of this heat or because I overextended myself, or for no reason at all, it seems to have come for a summer visit.
Although it's not as scary as it was, except when I'm actually in the throes of an attack, it's frustrating and really beginning to p##s me off. It's virtually impossible to make plans more than 5 minutes ahead and even that can be iffy. I wanted to go down to the city to see friends this Saturday, it's predicted to be 100 degrees and it's an hours drive each way. Maybe I'll wait for cooler weather. I went to a gathering last night that I'd really been looking forward to. Felt fine going, was uncomfortable there and couldn't quite decompress after I got home. I want to go to southern Calif. in Sept. to my brother's retirement dinner. Right now that doesn't look real promising. To say I'm not a happy camper would be putting it lightly. I'll still push the envelope and step just over the edge and sometimes I feel like a conquering hero, other times the payback can be miserable.
Okay, I've whined and groused. Maybe today will be better. If you didn't quit reading two paragraphs ago, thanks for letting me vent. I promise, I won't make a habit of it. Meanwhile, maybe I just need to go out and sit on my porch rocker and enjoy the view.
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