Anxiety

I have always been highly strung.

I give the impression of being laid back, but I’m like the proveribial swan, paddling furiously under the surface.

 

When I first studied at university, I made sure I got first class honours and a scholarship to finish my PhD.

When I went back to do my Diploma of Education the year before Greg died, I went a step further, getting straight 7s (highest score) and graduating with high distinction at the very top of my class, winning the prize for my year (which turned out to be a fancy dinner and a certificate).

It wasn’t that I was driven to succeed, it was that I was anxious that anything less than my best would spell failure.

 

….and that was what I was like when Greg was ALIVE and using his calming, grounding influence to keep me from shooting through the roof at every little thing that even mildly rocked my plan for world domination world.

 

Now, I find myself unable to calm down when things become a little stressful.

There is no voice of reason there to remind me that nobody is going to spontaneously combust unless I run around like a chook with its head cut off to hose out the myriad of little and big fires in my life.

 

I am currently stressed …. my job is under threat.  It’s a long story that involves a new government cutting jobs which will result in those eager young beavers on contracts (like me) being pushed aside as the old guard who have been working in policy for the past few years, dust off their rusty skills to return to the classroom, pushing us out in their wake.

 

I’ve been quite anxious about how I will support us next year (when my contract ends).

 

I’ve been quite shouty and didn’t I sleep for two nights:  I get more shouty when I am tired.

 

To put it mildly, I’ve been barrels of fun to be around….

 

I am trying very hard to keep some perspective…… but it’s been hard without my human security blanket here to calm me down.

 

Today, instead of flying into a rage or crying or rocking in the corner, I’ve tried to remind myself that possibly the worst thing to ever happen to me has already happened (Note to Universe – this is not a challenge to see if you can up the ante).

 

I have other options for work: we will not starve to death.

 

…and I’ve been spending as much time as I can outside: in the garden; walking through the bushland across the road from my house; strolling along the waterfront.

 

Trying to channel Greg’s calming influence…..

Trying to hear his voice through the whir of my mind.

 

…and so far, I’m succeeding ….. it’s …… OK.

 

…and maybe that’s all I can ask for just now.

 

This is a repost of my post on Widow’s Voice

 

 

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