Jason is in Indy until Thursday evening.

The state is having its annual get together where they all get drunk… I guess. They network and go to random seminars and whatnot on the tax payer dime.

I think it’s good.
It’s good for him to get out, although I wish he would have remembered to bring the self-defense paintball gun thing. And the bananas. He should have those.

It should be good for me too.
Last year, I read books underneath the covers and just generally enjoyed the ‘me’ time. I structure a lot of my day around when he comes home and what we do or might do after. It was nice to do what I wanted to do for a change.

But… this year is different.
I’m actually feeling kind of panicky. A bit anxious. My security blanket is gone for a couple of days and I feel uncomfortably to almost desperately exposed.

I shouldn’t be.
I’m a big girl and have plenty of distractions. I can still read. I can play games. When I get done with this, I’ll mow the yard and do some stuff outside.

Tomorrow, I have a chiro appointment and maybe lunch at Red Lobster with my sister.

If I get to the point where I just can’t get out of my head, I can go to mom’s house and try to chill.

When I get done with this, I’m going to do some things outside. I’ve already taken off the trash and had a telehealth appointment with Charis Center Anna.

There’s Youtube, the news, Netflix…. There’s plenty to keep me preoccupied although, as Anna warned, I shouldn’t exercise. I should stay off the rower. Although that’s probably where I’ll end up for at least an hour.

Conceptually, I know there’s things to do and some of them are potentially productive.

I don’t… shouldn’t… need Jason to help structure my day.

But I still feel like I do.

Charsis Center Anna floated the idea of inpatient hospital care if I don’t gain weight at the Dr. Peyton appointment next Thursday. I’ve pulled back on some of the exercise, and I know my thyroid is readjusting. But I don’t feel like I’m gaining and told her so.

I’m messed up, to be sure, but I try to be honest.

I also reminded her when I was hospitalized in February I was in far worse shape. I couldn’t carry my purse up the steps to the house. I didn’t have the strength to start my truck. That’s not the case now. I am better.

…. Unless she means another psyche ward. Maybe that’s what she means by “hospitalization” and I’m ignoring that possibility. I didn’t clarify and she didn’t offer.

…… A psyche ward poses its own unique set of challenges.

But I need to focus on what I’m going to do now and how I’m going to remain sane while my security blanket is away.

For starters, I need to drag my lazy butt out to mow and do some yard work. I’ve committed myself to that although I don’t want too, for some reason. I don’t know what I’d do in place of that, but, regardless, it needs to be done.

Karen’s yard doesn’t really need to be mowed, I think, but I’ll do it anyway. My yard is getting a bit shaggy from the rain.

I guess I could fold some clothes.

At some point, I might try to unbox the standing desk and walking pad I bought from Amazon. But if they need assembly, I probably wouldn’t do that. I can’t nail two pieces of boards together accurately.

After that….. I just don’t know.

I can do this. I can do this.
I should, can, and probably want to do this. I’m an independent person and shouldn’t need someone around to provide structure. I ” should ” be fine and I will be.

Then why do I feel so anxious?