I’m overly anxious about therapy tomorrow. I’m not sure why. I’m always anxious but this evening I’m really quite dreading it. All day I’ve felt miserable. I’ve wanted to avoid communicating with anyone. I’ve stayed home, languishing on the couch with daytime TV and the dog chewing noisily on a tennis ball. Admittedly it’s been freezing and raining all day so it’s been nice to have the fire going and heating on (it’s winter over this side of the hemisphere!).
By early afternoon I could feel my eyes getting heavy at Dr Phil and his sanctimonious drivel, so the dog and I headed to our respective beds. I slept deeply until my alarm went off and it was a struggle to get up.
I drove out, collected the kids, drove home. My husband called to say he was on the way home – thank God! The kids had minimal house trashing time before he got home while I crept off and hid in the bedroom.
And now here we are. I’m still in the bedroom, my husband has tended to the kids.
I’m miserable. I’m anxious. I don’t know what I’m going to talk about tomorrow. Part of me wants to go into shut down. I can’t feel any other emotion. But I do recognise discomfort. I don’t know if it’s because of the group therapy on Sunday? Maybe I’m feeling a bit tired of it all. I know I feel tired of everything period.
I guess I’ll see what tomorrow brings.