The world is pretty in pink…plus…sometimes it even sparkles

High Anxiety

Since Sunday…so many things have caused my anxiety to soar.

First is one of my own making since I decided to be a Glutton for Punishment and sail on race day with Jacques. WTF WAS I THINKING??? I haven’t been able to get his annoying, scolding, voice out of my head, AFTER we had just finished racing. I just wanted to leave. I just wanted to cry. He treated me like a child from the get go all because he wanted to go faster, he wanted to compete. It was not ideal.  I just didn’t want to listen to HIM anymore. I made a stupid decision. A stupid mistake. A lesson in humility and ego bashing, but also it’s cost me some level of respect or opportunity in the future to possibly go on one of these boats again with someone else. Possibly. Time will tell.

It’s four days later.

Wish I could shake his voice out of my head.

I woke up to his voice yelling inside my ears.  And it’s still going.

ALL OF WHICH MAKE ME WANT TO HURL.

I still feel sick to my stomach.

Racing. Not. For. Me.

I should know me better. I do know that about me.

Second, work. bleh. not going to talk about it really except it’s boring and repetitive and it pays the bills.

Thirdly, school. I had a final yesterday which I really didn’t study for. At. all. Because I was working and playing instead. Who takes a course in Summer???

Fourthly. And this is possibly the real catalyst for my anxiety. The decision to take the opportunity to reconnect with my father. It’s been a 16 years since he and I last spoke. Unfortunately, the love of his life passed away and common decency and good upbringing dictates that I least send a sympathy card. Now the big question, do I open the door for contact with placing my return address on said card? Do I even want to have the hope that he will contact me? Do I want to be contacted? Do I just want to send the note and leave it at that? Or do I want to not do anything?

There is no timeline on this. It will never be too late to send the sympathy card. It’s already been over three months since her passing. My half-sister told me in April and gave me our father’s address at my request.

But the question “What do I want….” keeps rolling through my head.

Right along side Jacques the Asshat screaming “GYBE” and “Fuck” and “You know what your problem is….”

All of this makes anxiety.

Very High Anxiety.

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