This evening I was meant to be baking a birthday cake.
The cake didn’t get made.
Was is just because of exhaustion? No. If I had just been tired, I would have made the cake.
I was anxious. And my anxiety won.
Now I’m going to have to make it tomorrow morning before work … ever heard about chronic lack of sleep and mornings? Yeah …
My husband just asked if I’d made the cake this evening and when I said no I felt like I had to justify it (what’s new?) and said that after work, shopping for cake bits, phoning my Grandma, supper and doing a couple of days worth or washing up, I just didn’t have any energy left to bake a cake … I can imagine him thinking that, as I knew I needed to make a cake, I shouldn’t have phoned my Grandma.
PLEASE NOTE: this is what I’m thinking, not what he said! I am probably wrong (as I usually am in these cases) and he is just looking sympathetic of my exhaustion. This is my anxiety/issues talking, not him. And later it turned out he really did understand …
This week I have been thinking of my Grandparents a lot and thinking that I should call them. Maybe because it was my birthday this week, so I normally get a card from them. Maybe because I am mourning the loss of my immediate birth family and that makes me think of my Grandparents who have been so faithful and supportive. Whatever the reason, I meant to call them every day this week …
When I didn’t get a card from them on my birthday I (mostly) dismissed it, but the next day I was battling the paranoid thoughts that something awful had happened. It’s a long story, but basically my parents have kept emergency stuff about my Grandparents from me more than once, so I worry it will happen again …
This evening when I got home from work I was relieved to find a birthday card from my Grandparents. It had the usual birthday cheque inside and a very typical amendment to the contents made by my Grandad!
Despite the relief of getting the expected card, I felt like I should ring them. I was exhausted and knew I should really make this cake … no, I NEEDED to ring them.
I got on with some aimless bits and bobs, downloaded some programs to watch, but some fish fingers in the oven for supper (L was out) but got more and more panicked as the minutes went by.
I became convinced that if I didn’t phone them this evening, I would regret it for the rest of my life; that if I didn’t phone them this evening something awful was going to happen to them and I would always blame myself for not talking to them one last time …
Logically irrational? Yes. A very real, panick-inducing force? Absolutely.
So I phoned my Grandma. The expected 10 minute chat was half an hour. Lovely, upsetting, exhausting.
I knew when I put down the phone and started a late supper that the cake wouldn’t be made tonight. I was done.
My week, my working day, my needed tasks, the panicked pressure to call family, the attention and emotional energy needed for a Long talk with my Grandma….
It was always going to be a slim chance of me baking after work, but my anxiety decided for me.
Do I really think my Grandparents are going to be in some horrific set up tomorrow? Of course not! Not really … I mean, a little part of me …
Anxiety how I hate you.