I don’t know why I’m like this. So damn afraid of everything, everyone. So neurotic about things. I don’t leave the house much anymore because I can’t get past the fears that seem to engulf me whenever we drive anywhere.
We don’t visit friends, not even when they live in the same complex. If I do leave the house it’s to go and see the rents (who also) live in the same co-op we do and even then I start to feel that pang to get home and be inside.
I hate it. But I don’t know how to change.
Tonight I broke down and told Forgetful Dad how I was feeling. Granted the swell of emotion flooding from me is most likely because FLOW is on her way to town to visit me for the next five days and she always seems to create this bubble of tears I wallow in, until she leaves.
One of the many perks of being a woman and able to bear children.
We were talking about traveling because a g/f of mine is going away again and lately I’ve been thinking about it a lot, envious of her. She’s been to Mexico, Florida, California, shopping down to Seattle.
She posts beautiful pics on FB to share. I see the looks on her kids faces, the smiling as they swim with dolphins, go on rides, take a boat tour. All the sights and sounds they intake and I feel another pang of guilt that I don’t (as a mother) take my kids anywhere other than the local Wal-mart (my second home) to buy toilet paper and under arm deodorant because the least I can do is not allow my 11 year old to be the stinky one in class.
Forgetful Dad wants to go to Scotland one day. He wants to take the kids to Disneyland. I want to go to Seattle and see the great gum wall. I know disgusting, right? But honestly, how many times can you say in your life you participated in something universally gross and yet cherished by so many. I want to see it.
With blogging there are conferences that crop up and I want to want to go to these conferences, but they are always too far away and require (flying) something that even when I think about doing it makes me want to hurl.
Going anywhere makes me feel out of control and… scared.
The funny thing about all this is that I never used to be this way. Honest I didn’t. I used to be out going and friendly and loved to see people. I mean heck in my twenties I lived downtown Vancouver off Davie street. I worked at Starbucks until 3 a.m. and walked home (alone) never fearful of what would happen. I traveled to Europe at 16 on a long flight, and I’ve been to Calgary, California, Bellingham and Seattle all before my kids were born.
So why now am I struggling with leaving my house?
I know some of it has to do with being bipolar and having panic disorder. Ever since the car accident we were in, it seems I’m a completely different person. I just want to find myself again. I’ve always been bipolar but this anxiety to which I suffer from seems… consuming. It has taken over my happiness to explore the world and truly live with my kids and husband.
I want to go on trips with my kids. I want to share places and people with my husband. I want to get past the fears that I am going to die. There I said it aloud. I am going to die. Oh not now. I’m not sick or anything (other than mentally) but one day. One day I am going to get old and I won’t be here and neither will my kids and I’m crying as I even write this because I’m so messed up in the head with thinking about it.
I want to live.
And right now being this way. I’m not living. I’m only existing. I have a great marriage. Fantastic kids. Great friends and a wonderful family. Yet I’m only existing because I’m choosing to sit here and nothing else.
I guess it’s time to release some control and make a change.