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Monday, August 7, 2017

I refuse...

You know, sometimes I just refuse to give in. I adamantly reject the idea that my anxiety is going to take over my body and mind. Tonight I made pork chops in a pan sauce, green beans (from my canned stash), and leftover squash casserole. I fought my mind throughout the meal and had to leave the table early because I wasn't feeling well.

All I could think about was the green beans. They were pressure canned and all I could think about was botulism and how it would feel to have my organs shut down, etc. I canned everything exactly as the instructions said to and I cooked the green beans again for supper, so it was perfectly fine, but my mind was deceitful. It tried to take me down that lonely, scary road. I hopped on the exit ramp though.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about refusing to give in. I don't want to give up living before I'm done actually living! I don't like flying. I don't like the idea of being holed up on a cruise ship without escape. Two weeks ago I took that flight and cruised from Long Beach, CA to Ensenada, Mexico and while I may not have chosen a cruise ship to get there, it was a fun time and Ensenada was beautiful. We went to two vineyards there and enjoyed fresh olive oil with lovely bread and cheese.

On the first flight, I hadn't flown in so long that I forgot what it felt like. I clutched my rosary, my thumb furiously rubbing the crucifix, tears streaming down my face, praying to God and Mary to help me through that moment. Then, the landing was no big deal. We had a short layover in San Francisco and this time, I tried my utmost to be blase' about the whole takeoff so I wouldn't freak out. I literally almost fell asleep right as it started. I was determined not to let the anxiety take over.

On the flight home, I was so worried about the terrified guy next to me that I didn't have time to ponder the plane breaking in half.

I told my friend before we left that I HAD to do these things. I HAD to challenge myself to go through it. If I didn't, I would be so disappointed in myself.

My anxiety is muuuuuuch better than it used to be and I am so thankful for that. The triggers are still there, but I am challenging myself to face them head on instead of cowering in the corner. For right now, I've done it and I'm happy to report that I'm still alive. So live like there's no tomorrow. The cliche' is a bald truth we must acknowledge. One day, there won't be one. That's it. We're done. My hope resides in the cross but until God takes me home, I refuse to let fear win.

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