Tomorrow, we’re leaving for Chicago.
It’s a short trip. We’re not flying across the world, there’s no complicated itinerary, and realistically, it should feel pretty easy.
And yet, I spent most of today anxious about it.
I actually woke up with that anxious feeling already there. I tried to follow through with some of the things I’ve shared before that usually help me. I pulled out my notebook and wrote down my to-dos for the day, how I was feeling, and a few things I wanted to accomplish.
Usually, getting everything out of my head and onto paper helps quiet things down a little.
Today, it just didn’t.
That’s one of the more frustrating things about anxiety. It doesn’t always match what’s actually happening, and sometimes the things that normally help don’t help quite as much.
I can know logically that we’re only going away for a short time, that Chicago isn’t far from home, and that if I absolutely hated every second of it, I could simply come home.
My brain knows all of that.
My anxiety apparently did not get the memo.
I found myself thinking about the trip over and over today. Not necessarily anything specific going wrong—just that familiar feeling of I don’t want to go. The strange part is that I actually do want to go. I want the change of scenery, a nice dinner, a hotel bed I don’t have to make, and a couple of days away from the normal routine.
But sometimes the anticipation of leaving home becomes much bigger than the actual leaving.
When the Usual Things Don’t Work
Oftentimes, a little exercise or even just getting outside for some fresh air helps me reset. But today was just rough.
I felt like there were a million things I needed to get done before we left. Somehow, despite feeling like I had been thinking about those things all day, I ended up accomplishing the bare minimum.
And maybe today, that has to be enough.
I wish I could say that I’ve figured out how to just accept the anxiety and keep going, but I really haven’t.
When I feel like this, part of me still wonders whether I should go at all. I want the anxious feeling to disappear so I can actually look forward to the trip instead of spending the day trying to convince myself that everything will be fine.
But tonight, the anxiety is still here. The trip is still happening tomorrow.
So for now, I’m just hoping tomorrow feels a little easier than today did.
Tonight
It’s after 8 p.m. now, and I’m sitting outside writing this with a cup of chamomile tea, hoping tomorrow feels much better.
There are probably still things I could be doing. Something else I could pack, organize, check, or prepare.
But I think I’m done for today.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll pick up my bag, get in the car, and go anyway.
Maybe I’ll wake up and feel completely different. Maybe the first hour will be hard. Maybe I’ll get there and wonder why I spent so much time worrying about it.
I don’t know yet.
And that’s why I wanted to write this tonight instead of waiting until I have a neat little ending.
Anxiety has a way of making something that looks very small on a map feel enormous in your head. Some may just tell you not to worry, but for us that live with this anxiety know it’s our daily battle.
Tonight, Chicago feels a little bigger than it should.
Hopefully tomorrow, it will just feel like Chicago.
