Panic is a default emotion for me.
It should be no surprise, then, that when Mister Mister confronted me on Sunday night about the fact that lately, I have seemed distant, stressed out, and annoyed… I panicked.
First I panicked about the fact that he believes I have been all these things. Then I panicked because I couldn’t properly communicate that I wasn’t these things. Then I panicked because the baby is coming in six-and-a-half months and I still haven’t painted our bedroom — or the baby’s bedroom, for that matter.
I don’t know how to turn off the anxiety bubble. I’ve tried, I promise. Meditation, deep breathing, refocusing, prayer, journaling, blah blah blah. And still, I default to “Danger.”
After a 20-minute conversation, I finally felt secure with our home to-do list.
Then I went online the next day and saw a different to-do list, and started freaking out that we haven’t yet chosen a pediatrician or day care provider.
I’d like to cope better with these kinda of things — particularly with a panic, stress, anxiety-inducing bundle on the way.
The opposite of panic.