An Insomniac's Vacation Home

She was genuinely proud of me. She said so many people don’t make it to therapy at all because the anxiety walls them off before they get there. And I just… cried. Because I was sitting there saying how much I hated all of this, how miserable and scary it feels, but also that I knew I could get past it again. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. Even when it feels impossible.

We talked a lot about how many “micro-tasks” actually make up a single win - and how fast the brain erases them. Like we say, “yeah, I went to work today,” but we don’t acknowledge the twenty-seven terrifying steps inside that.

Like:

• waking up, feeling dread punch you in the stomach
• choosing not to call in sick
• untangling yourself from blankets that suddenly feel like the only safe place on earth
• dragging yourself upright, grounding through dizziness
• dealing with the whole stomach situation
• brushing teeth with shaky hands
• picking clothes (harder than astrophysics)
• eating something, taking meds, checking the time
• finding your keys/phone/badge like you’re completing a quest
• putting on shoes (its own battle)
• opening the front door even though anxiety wants you barricaded inside
• locking up and then immediately worrying you didn’t lock up
• getting to the car
• sitting there thinking “I could just… not go”
• starting the engine anyway
• navigating traffic, roundabouts, other drivers, all while barely holding it together
• parking, getting out, walking into the building
• pretending to be a functional human despite your brain being a screeching smoke alarm

 And then you do your job. And you come home. And your brain still goes: “yeah, regular day.”

 When really you climbed a mountain before 9am.

So we talked through treatment options. Weighed up a wellbeing course vs one-to-one exposure therapy. In the end, we decided to start with a remote 6-week wellbeing course - 2 hours a week, each session covering a theme (anxiety, low mood, sleep, self-esteem, self-identity). She said - and I agree - that while anxiety & agoraphobia are the headline problem right now, I’m actually struggling with all of the things the course touches on. So hopefully it’ll lift the baseline a bit before we dive into exposure therapy.

 (Also, neither of us particularly wanted to start exposure therapy during Christmas. Sensible boundaries.)

 The only downside: the course doesn’t start until the end of January :/

So… now we wait. And I try to remember that even when my stomach is imploding and my brain is screaming and I feel like a raw nerve with legs — I’m still doing the thing. I’m still showing up. I’m still here.

I'm getting back to posting these daily. I've missed the ritual - the way it nudges me to notice the tiny bright moments instead of letting the whole day blur together. today felt like a good place to begin again.

today’s glimmers:
📬 my work was noticed - the sheer amount of invoices I posted on Friday was recognised by the new manager, which felt… surprisingly nice.
📱 tech win - my shiny new tablet actually worked beautifully for studying on my lunch break.
📚 book mail!! - my lovely box of books from The Works arrived and instantly lifted my mood.