My anxiety has taken a step backwards over the last week or so.
It was a bit wobbly before Christmas but I thought I had it under control by the end of the festive break.
I did not.
I’ve slid back a way. Old issues have reared their heads and a few new triggers have been discovered.
It’s all going to be okay. I might have to take things slowly and let myself have a few more bad days, but I’m doing okay. I’m looking forward and taking baby steps every day and trying to listen to my body and my head and give them what they need.
Yesterday that meant abandoning the housework, crawling into bed and crying for half an hour in the middle of the afternoon.
The day before it meant feverishly unpacking boxes we brought in from the garage left from the house move.
Today I have battled with the washing basket and blown things up in Worms on the Xbox.
Every day something gets done. Every day I feel a little more reassured that maybe I’m not an entirely lost cause and that I can get back to where I was and maybe even improve some more.
But if I have to spend a day watching back-to-back episodes of Primeval whilst eating my body weight in crisps or something on the way, then that’s okay. Because I’m human. And sometimes we just need to stop.
I’ll get there.
It’ll be fine.