Having Anxiety Means You Can’t Tell the Difference Between a Minor Problem and a Catastrophe
I survived our company on Tuesday night. We ate snacks, drank vodka and wine, and played games. Oh, the hijinx and shenanigans! Fun was had by all.
I prepped most of the day, obsessed with cleanliness and whether my appetizer choices were dumb, whether my house was too small, whether I forgot a necessary mixer, whether our serving dishes didn't match, whether my store-bought cake was lame, and blah blah blah.
Hostessing gives me such anxiety!
Part of me thinks that is as dumb as h*ll, but I'm not lying when I say I really had to pull on my big girl pants, stop myself from calling our friends and being all, Oh no, you can't come over tonight because...uhh...our house is infested with spiders and snakes annnnndddd a giant sinkhole is forming in the front yard.
I mean, it wasn't like it was a pelvic exam. I sought the experience and enjoyed planning over the weekend, but most of Tuesday afternoon, I was like: WTH brain! Why, why, WHY must you give me so much grief over entertaining?
If you want something to compare it to, imagine waiting in line to ride a scary roller coaster with friends who are thrilled to experience it while you're trying to act brave and thinking I can't believe I've chosen to get myself into this. It's a horrible mistake, but there is no turning back.
Stupid, stupid anxiety!
My anxiety has been around since I was about 13 years old. Mostly, it settles into the background unnoticed, but sometimes it shoves its way to the front of the line.
Through the years, it's shown itself in different ways. Back in the day, it made me a nervous, jittery person, full of energy and hurrying from one thing to the next. It became a different anxiety a few years ago when it morphed into a mess of negative, intrusive thoughts and imagining worst-case scenarios.
Sometimes, I wake up at 2 a.m. with heart palpitations and think, "OMG! SOMETHING IS WRONG!!" (except nothing is wrong). And sometimes, I can ruin my day worrying about a non-stressful event that I know I will enjoy once I'm doing it. (The Best fix for that: distraction, exercise, and sugary snacks.)
Anyway, I wrote all that to say that we had a nifty little party at our house on Tuesday night with great food, great friends, and a fantastic game (I sound like a cheesy Facebook post), and in hindsight, hosting that evening was one hundred percent the best thing I've done since the last time we had friends over. It forced me to confront my fears and reminded me that entertaining isn't traumatizing and horrific. It is fun. (That doesn't mean I won't fret about it next time I do it, of course.)
Oh, and one last thing - speaking of fears, I almost didn't share this because I had a fear of how I would be perceived or judged after talking about my anxiety, but f*ck that.
Everyone has something, whether it's anxiety, OCD, an eating disorder, or whatever. We are all in this life together, and the best thing we can do is not judge, support each other, and be kind. Right?