The odd thing is, overall, I am not stressed.
There was an episode yesterday. Before Joe and I went for a run I felt physically overwhelmed. Internal Emily tapped on my shoulder and said, “Hey…Hi…Let’s run…”
I let my body guide me to something better. (Unique and impressive behavior.)
Today, however, I experienced something more familiar. While there is a clarity of purpose about my thoughts and an assurance that “things” — the wedding, a job — are going to be successes, I am behaving…
It’s such an inelegant contradiction because I respond to my meanest self.
My jaw hurts from trying not to grind my teeth. Unease inflates my stomach and the line of pressure across my forehead indicates obsessive thinking.
Bolder than the confidence in achievement is a taunting voice that asserts, “Hey, you’re supposed to be freaking out. Remember? You’re not supposed to enjoy any of this. There is a wedding to plan, a job to find, and an apartment to lease. None of these take place linearly. Progress is scattered. That circumstance alone should rob you of joy and entertainment. Come on, be a slave to the stress of chaos.”
To ignore it is to change and establish a new habit. Which can take time.