Anxiety

I’m heading to the airport in an hour and packing my suitcase. Our dog, Kobe, starts pacing. Up to me, whining. Trying to get my attention. When I head out the door he’s getting frantic. Door shut, I hear him howling.

Anxiety. That’s it. I show it when I try to bring a spoonful of soup to my mouth and then put the spoon back afraid I won’t make it. I show it when I need to grab the coffee cup from the coffee machine with two hands. I show it when I avoid offsites or hang out in my hotel room when I do go. I show it when I can’t sleep on business trips. I show it when I grab that second or third glass of wine. I show it when I find negative things to comment on.

Anxiety has been with me for as long as I can remember. When I wasn’t aggressive playing shortstop as a Freshman which caused me to be demoted as a Sophomore. In college when I didn’t go to study groups or parties. In my second year of work when called upon to speak about an accomplishment, I could not form sentences.

This is not a post about how I got over my anxiety. Far from it. It is still me. In my 40s I was able to move past the self criticism about my lack of social grace and accept who I was. I’m told this is not uncommon, at least if your lucky. I was hoping in my 50s the pressure to would relax, I’d be able to speak freely, do things adhoc, be the best version of myself. But no. The anxiety is there, like an old friend pulling me into old habits. So I learn to work with it. I schedule 1:1s, I appear busy, I pay extra to get my own room at offsites, I order salad instead of soup.

I understand there are medications and cognitive therapy that could help. Probably I should do that. But it makes me anxious to think about it. And I think the anxiety comes from somewhere. And maybe I should stay connected to that somewhere for at least a little while longer.

I arrive home from my week long business trip. Open the door. Kobe, on the coach next to Sabrina, is alerted. He sprints towards me. Jumps on me. Runs back and forth. Grabs my shoe and runs into the living room.