Weight of expectation #2: ‘last days’
It’’s not as ominous as it sounds.
And as I prepare to write the next bit, I fully realise how petty and ridiculous it will sound.
Today is my last day of holiday before returning to work tomorrow.
For me, this generates quite an overwhelming amount of anxiety. For some reason, my mind finds it nigh on impossible to to prioritise the positive parts of my holiday: the time spent with friends and with family making memories; consuming delicious food and drink; numerous cosy days and nights under a blanket of sleep and warm toes.
From the moment I opened my eyes this morning, my mind was bombarded with an insistent inner monologue interrogating me on how I was going to spend this hallowed day. ‘Analysis paralysis’ followed: my complete inability to move forward with my day until I either make the decision to think differently or someone else does it for me.
It’s a crippling state. Every attempt to move forward is thwarted by that inner interrogator; shining a light on each and every intention and cross-examining them with such ferocity that you rue ever having thought of it in the first place. Cue increased heart rate, waves of hot panic and an ever-increasing desire to construct the world’s finest duvet cave so well-equipped that you never need leave it again.
However - I seem to have won: well, this hour anyway. It’s now 7.24am and I’ve dropped my husband off at work and debated driving straight home, but instead I decided to park up in what seemed to be the only coffee shop open at this time of morning, order a blueberry muffin and a pot of tea and attend to writing my blog.
A very dear friend of mine asked me yesterday if I had tried “taking the day bit by bit.” I keep returning to this idea as I sit here and do my best not to panic about the impending return to routine, to work, to expectation. I am ashamed to say that it is not something I find easy whatsoever - taking the day bit by bit. All too often, I find myself wishing and hurrying the day on or being so absorbed in pursuits that seem to absorb time and leave me totally drained of all motivation - *cough* Facebook *cough* - that I’ve truly forgotten how to appreciate each day. Having things to look forward to is all well and good, but what about all the days in between?
In professions such as mine, you need to be able to take the day bit by bit but you also have to have some idea of the trajectory you wish to travel upon. Whilst this keeps life interesting, it is also quite problematic for someone with anxiety as you have small victories where you ‘win’ at being in the moment and ‘getting through’, but this is then compounded by the need to know where you’re heading next and what you plan to do.
There are rare moments of peace within my mind. Just this morning, when getting dressed, I ran through one of my ideas for tomorrow and felt momentarily satisfied that this would suffice and that there was no need to place such a heavy weight of expectation on myself or my students.
Sadly, I have formed an unhelpful belief that such ‘self-care’ or ‘self-kindness’ is akin to ‘letting yourself off the hook’. Why I’m on the hook or what led me to dangling helplessly from it is largely unknown to me, but it seems to be so deeply internalised that it’s hard to free myself from it.
It’s something to work on.
For now, I’m toying with the idea of having a day of wandering with my netbook and sketching rough plans for tomorrow and this term while trying not to feel encumbered and overwhelmed. It may even turn into a cafe tour. It depends on how long my netbook battery lasts as the coffee shop I’m in doesn’t appear to have power sockets I can use.
