Hello, anxiety!

For the past week I have looked like an insane asylum escapee. My eyes have been popping out of my head. I continuously have a look of panic smeared all over my face. I even, all of a sudden, have heartburn. And maybe hives.

My ‘To Do List’ has suddenly become a scroll and I have become one of those people who always exclaim in a sigh, “I’m soooooooo busy.” I hate those people! And now I am in their ranks. It’s become all I say when someone asks me how the bike tour planning is coming.

And every so often (or every second of the past week) I get that feeling. My heart pounds, I find it hard to shallow past the lump in my throat, my palms get sweaty. I suddenly feel like there are steal rods running up and down the sides of my neck. The space behind my eyes feels electric and heavy . . . Ah ha! It's my old friend anxiety. Well hello!

The ridiculous part of my anxiety visits? I’m creating them! All by myself. Last night I had a meltdown about the bike boxes we need to pack up our other bikes. “We NEED bike boxes! And we HAVE to get them tonight! Like, NOW!” And the thing is, we don’t need bike boxes. I don’t even know what I am talking about most of the time.

And then I have freak-outs about underwear. Yes, un-der-wear. How many should I pack? What kind? When will I wash them? See, completely created drama.

I worry. I've always worried. When I was little I worried my teachers wouldn't like me, that my pets would run away, that I would fall in front of everyone in a movie theater if I got up and used the bathroom. Now I worry about the unknowns that come along with the bike tour. And boy, have I created some doozies in my head.

But I do have Melissa. I'm sentimental and a pack rat, which inevitably has caused me to save a lot of text messages from Melissa. I keep coming back to one in particular, reading it and re-reading it whenever worry and fear seem to envelope the place I sit. It reads: "I can't imagine my life without you. As long as we are together, we can do anything we want. I can't wait for our bike trip."

Neither can I.

Brooke