If you’ve read a few earlier posts from me, you will know that I struggled this weekend. I wanted to go away with people from my club, but found it extremely hard due to my depression and anxiety. Saturday morning I was 95 % sure I wasn’t going anywhere and I was upset with myself for it.
But then I kept working on it. I didn’t give up on myself or the idea of going. I started thinking about calling some of the people who had already gone, to hear what they had to say. I didn’t actually make any calls, but I imagined. They would support me, they would offer to look out for me and keep close, they would say they missed me.
It’s actually hard for me to imagine those thoughts, cause I tend to think that no one would care if I were there or not. But they would. They do care. They told me that once I got there.
Cause I did end up going! It wasn’t luck. It was hard work, but I did it. I conquered. I fought through my feelings and thoughts, my instincts and instead I went with my dream of going – and my want. My need.
I don’t know how to label what I was feeling and doing right then, but somehow, I found myself in a car, on the way – and it felt like a victory.
Even someone who likes shopping as much as I do. (Yeah I know, could I be more like a typical woman?)
If it’s not clear yet, I did go shopping today. My sister and I had some stuff to buy and we also just wanted some sister-time.
Shopping used to be hard for me with my anxiety, but I’ve gotten more used to the city now – and I’ve improved a bit. And then of course, having my sister with me helps me too. Some days it’s still hard, but it was good. It was all great in fact.
Burgers for lunch (which was actually a new café for me and it was great!), buying a birthday present for mum, exchanging a present my sister had gotten last weekend – and bra shopping and clothes shopping in general.
Yeah, it was great. Except the fact that I had hoped to go out for a meeting tonight. Actually a meeting about anxiety and religion, how to handle it together and stuff. But once I got home I was just worn out. Both mentally and physically. And all the energy it would have taken to go out tonight was gone. Really gone.
So I stayed home. Is that a failure?
On one hand it does feel like I’ve failed. But on the other hand, I had a really nice time and forgot about a lot of bad things while being out.
I can’t let myself feel bad about this. I did what I wanted to. I can’t change anything now, and even if I had the chance I wouldn’t.