Tonight I watched the sunset from my bed. Curled up with my blue blanket and a mug of cinnamon tea, I was struck by how fast the colors changed and how quickly the dark clouds moved as they swept past the hills.
It’s been remarkably stormy here in California. And while we need the rain after years of drought, it’s been devastating for some. Day after day, the rain has pounded on the roof of the little yellow house I call home in San Francisco…home for two more weeks before James and I tie the knot and move to Los Angeles.
The rain certainly hasn’t made this transition easy. As we’ve made Target runs for bubble wrap and packing tape and dashes to the car with boxes of Goodwill donations in tow, we’ve gotten more than just a little bit sprinkled on.
But the annoyance of having to manage moving logistics in the midst of one of the biggest storms we’ve seen in years is only part of my issue with this rain. The worst part is the darkness.
Today on the blog, I’m sharing a bit about my history with anxiety. Read on for more, and join me in the process of moving from perfectionism to wholeness – from anxiety to rest – by signing up here to get updates about Enough.
What if I pass out, and we crash?
What if I have to pull off the side of the road and have Chelsea drive?
What if she thinks I’m totally crazy for feeling so anxious right now?
These questions – among others – came barreling down on me this Tuesday as I drove with a colleague to a marketing conference in Silicon Valley.
I don’t drive often. I gave my car to my sister back in 2010 when she moved to Missouri to marry her now-husband, and I moved to San Francisco where a car is more of an inconvenience than anything else.
So, it was natural that I should feel a little uneasy driving this week. But my anxious thoughts weren’t really about the mechanics of driving. I’d rented a 2015 Volkswagen Golf – a top safety pick, since that’s the way I make decisions – for the day. The car was great, albeit a little zippy for my cautious taste, but mostly easy to maneuver.
In my mind, I knew this was a good car, and I knew I could drive it just fine. But then the “what if’s” began to take over my rational thoughts.
You might think it strange that I was so intensely worried about passing out while driving. That the fear of passing out started to send me in a panic attack on the 101 – face numb from my shallow breathing, hands white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. I’ll explain why. Continue reading