I was looking forward to this morning, looking for houses with Blue Eyes so she could live nearby with Vroom, Tangles, and Duckling. We DID look at houses, and that was fun, but the rest of the day was just not good, and I haven’t had that many truly terrible days lately. I have a constant ache for my daughter, but for the most part I’m not anxious, I don’t feel panicky, and I feel a general sense that I am strong enough to get through anything.
I am telling myself that bad days happen. Anxiety happens. Panic attacks happen. It doesn’t mean I’ll feel this way forever, or even for very long. It isn’t permanent. It’s just one day, one mood, one anxiety attack. The world is not ending, the sky is not falling, I will be FINE again. It took me years of therapy to have a deep, intrinsic sense of this. It took me years not to be codependent, and years to find the strength inside of me. But when a panic attack hits, I have to very purposefully remind myself of all that I learned, and all that I worked for. I have to change my state, which is to say, I need some sleep. I am exhausted. I am lonely. I am feeling insecure. Just because I cried much of today does not put me back at step one. It just means I’m human. It just means I’m alive. It just means that sometimes life is not easy, and my emotions are NOT me. I must not let them dictate what I do.
It is only a mood, it is only a day, it is only in passing. I am no more alone than I was yesterday, I am no less strong, and I am no less capable of being happy.
Time to see if sleep can help this.