Coffee is doing its thing while I try to figure out what I need to write about this week. The heat kept me inside after my workout and errands yesterday, not my anxiety. Which is both good and bad, I wanted to go to the park and see a friend in As You Like It but I'm hoping next weekend or the weekend First Daughter is here will be better. And also I don't want to go alone. So my anxiety did play a part after all, perhaps 50/50.
I wish I was better at this. At adulting and living life. I wish I could accomplish all the things in my head that I want to do. That's one of the hardest parts about living with anxiety is knowing you didn't always have it. I remember being able to wake up, and plan a day of things to do, some even outdoors with people, and not only stick to it but look forward to it. Now my mind comes up with all sorts of reasons why I shouldn't get out of bed. Yesterday it was the weather, and yet I did get out of bed to get the things done I knew had to be done. Banking, groceries, I'm surprised working out made the list. I hope it does again this morning after my blog or laundry. However I feel excuses coming on as I type and wonder if I'll make it. I also have another chance to see the play this afternoon, in the hot. Again, I can hear myself making excuses to keep me isolated.
And while writing feels like a good thing to do and one that if I did I'd feel good about staying in, it doesn't seem to come for me anymore. Perhaps I'm in a slump. Or maybe I'm enjoying all the time I'm getting with First Daughter since her break up and deep down I know it wont last. She'll meet someone new and he will become her life, like with First Son. Which is absolutely normal in my opinion. Something is not right in my heart and mind hemispheres, for when its not right I can't write.
I've been blaming it on worry and life and time but the real reason is I'm lazy about it. I don't force myself to open up the documents and finish them. Really finish them. I read books that I know are far above my abilities, and I read ones that I know are far below. You'd think the later would get me motivated but it doesn't. I sometimes wonder if I think anything is worth the motivation now.
With the exception of gaming and watching TV it seems all my hobbies have gone away, and while I'm trying to keep them, I feel like everything and everyone is just slipping away. This is anxiety at its best, it's also the precursor to being depressed. Which I don't feel but sometimes I worry is right around the corner, lurking like an old addict friend that won't go away after the party ends. You know the one who crashes on your couch just for the night, but wont leave in the morning?
Mr. Hopeful was hoping to come this weekend, and then his business kept him from travel. Maybe I miss him more than I thought. Maybe that's the reason for the slump. But I know I'm very good at talking myself out of commitments when I'm alone. Its like all my life I've waited for someone to do all these fun things with, and not doing them by myself is foolish. I'll suggest plans and get shot down by some of my own excuses. He hates crowds too. But maybe I need someone that loves crowds to get me out more. Maybe I need to be more confident with my friends and say I'm doing this want to join? I actually tried that with Shakespeare in the park and both girlfriends either work or had other things going on. I try to make plans that will get me out at least one day of my day off and when they fall through or can't happen it makes me feel like I should just stay in. I know I wont make it out of the house today except to the basement to do laundry. Again its hot and I know I want to write and be alone away from people. Game and watch an escape I enjoy. Try to be with my thoughts and get them straightened out before work tomorrow. You see, it's become my Sunday habit. I don't wonder why I'm alone anymore. I know why. I hide so well, no one can see me. I think I'm enjoying my invisibility in society. This is probably not a good thing.