According to Urban Dictionary, ‘word vomit’ means saying something you shouldn’t. I use it to mean needing to get stuff out, in writing or verbally, all in one go. My definition is, in my very humble opinion, much better.
I am still fighting my old friend anxiety. Still doing, thinking, saying, practicing all the right things and still, almost two months later, seeing no improvement. This is more than a little frustrating – I have my eyes on the prize but a small reward along the way would be nice.
I made my regular trip to Asda yesterday morning – it is both the smallest and the nearest supermarket – with the goal of buying a few things we need, and popcorn. Last week, they moved the popcorn and I still haven’t been able to find it – I am not able to stay in the shop long enough to look for it. I managed to get toothpaste and conditioner for my daughter but nothing else that was on my mental list.
I am frustrated and cross that something which was once so simple is now beyond me. My fears may be groundless but my phobias are real and they prevent me from staying in a situation until the anxiety has passed – I have no choice but to return home and this reinforces the vicious circle.
But nobody ever got anywhere by sitting on their butt so I keep trying, keep succeeding to differing degrees, keep being frustrated. At the same time, I cannot see how I will make it through either of my appointments this week and an appointment at the doctors’ surgery to see about meds seems impossible even before it has been booked.
I have a long way to go, one step at a time. All I can do is try